Steal My Heart Away
by vintagevagabond
Summary: Blaine Anderson, a former thief known as The Warbler, finds himself under suspicion when a new criminal comes to town and frames him. Can Blaine clear his name with the help of socialite and potential victim Kurt Hummel? Loosely based on To Catch a Thief.
1. Prologue

Night shadows danced across the pale walls of Madame Lefitte's eighth floor apartment as she tutted through her evening routine. A slight tipsiness was all that remained of a night of champagne stars and the soft swell of an orchestra. Smiling to herself, the Madame changed from her evening frock into a nightgown. She then carefully removed her jewels from her neck and wrists and placed them inside her mahogany case. Lefitte might have been questioned in her taste in fabrics and gowns, but it was common knowledge that no one had a better taste in rocks. It didn't matter what kind, emeralds, rubies, or her personal favorite: diamonds. Each piece was worth a small fortune and Charlotte Lefitte constantly made sure everyone knew it. As the Madame shuffled through her apartment, she was startled by the sharp ring of the telephone. She let out a nervous laugh as she answered the phone.

"Hello, this is the Lefitte flat," the Madame answered, still quite tipsy.

"My dear Charlotte, it's me: Edith Williams. I'm so upset I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to you tonight. I was preoccupied in trying to pry my husband away from his coworkers so we could finally leave. I swear the man acts as if I don't even exist when he focuses on his work. And the way he simply casts me aside when he sees the opportunity to schmooze with another corporate big-wig…" the voice droned on.

Charlotte held the phone away from her ear and idly ran her fingers through her box of gems. Edith had a natural talent for boring people to tears. It wasn't a wonder as to why her husband spent all of his time at work. Charlotte noticed a pause on the receiver and quickly held the phone to her ear.

"Oh! I'm sorry Edith, I didn't catch the last part of that. Could you repeat it for me?"

"Of course Charlotte, I was saying how awful it was that Sylvie was robbed last night. Isn't it awful? I can't imagine waking up and noticing all of my jewelry gone and a ghastly yellow feather resting in its place!" Charlotte nodded her head in confirmation before realizing she was speaking into a telephone.

"It is rather dreadful, I'm just thankful I live on a higher floor than Sylvie does. I hardly think anyone could reach my room," Charlotte answered.

"I know, but isn't it hard to believe that the police have absolutely have no leads? There's no evidence left at any of the crime scenes. It's like the jewels just vanish in the dead of night when everyone's asleep! I can't even imagine the horror," Edith continued, her nerves showing more through each sentence.

"Yes well, I'm sure that you have nothing to worry about and neither do I. Goodnight Edith, I'll talk to you tomorrow," the Madame swiftly hung up the phone before she got sucked into listening to another monologue by Edith.

Turning back to her case, she closed the lid and placed the case in the depths of her dresser drawer. Just as she began to wander to bed, she quickly turned back to her dresser, extracted her most valuable diamond necklace from the case, and placed it in a small, silk drawstring bag. So maybe she was a little more nervous than she let on. But, could anyone truly blame her? There was a thief on the prowl. She then sleepily crawled into her bed and placed the pouch under her pillow. Just in case.

The slight tickle of the champagne quickly lulled her into a dreamless sleep, leaving her unaware of the moonlight shadows casting darkness across the room, making their way to the patio doors of the Lefitte flat, and turning the handle door open.

The shadow crept into the room without a sound and situated itself at the foot of the king sized bed. Staring at the unaware hostess, the shadow allowed a broad grin to creep across its face before getting to work.

Its eyes scoped the room before focusing on the dresser. _Bingo._ Crossing to the bureau, a pair of gloved hands rolled the drawers open and grasped the edges of the jewelry box before emptying it into a small satchel. Placing the box back and closing the drawer, the shadow turned but not before placing a solitary yellow feather on the polished surface of the dresser. A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat appeared on the shadow's face as it examined the contents of the bag. The smile faltered however when it realized all of the pieces were not accounted for.

Quietly maneuvering around the apartment, boxes were checked and every drawer was opened. No inch went unturned and the shadow grew frustrated until it saw a small drawstring out of the corner of its eye. _Of course_. The light bended and fractured over Madame Lefitte's face as a hand slowly slid beneath her pillow and extracted the drawstring pouch. Another feather was placed next to the sleeping woman's face.

The shadow left as quietly as it entered. The curtains framing the patio doors finally lay still as the door closed with a soft click. The only sounds remaining were Charlotte's soft snores and a fading whistled tune that echoed over the silent streets of France.


	2. Chapter 1

**HIGHLY REGARDED SOCIALITE ROBBED**

"**I WAS SOUND ASLEEP!"**

**THE WARBLER STRIKES AGAIN!**

A pair of sharp hazel eyes scanned the headlines of the morning paper. Seeing a familiar headline on the paper next to him, the man let out a resounding groan and ran a hand through his unruly dark curls.

"Shit," he grumbled. This was not how he wanted to start his day. He begrudgingly began reading the lead story, a story similar to those he had read all week, and they all said the same thing: Blaine Anderson the Warbler Returns. He was seriously considering changing his name at this point. If only his picture hadn't been printed with the articles.

"Santana! Can you come in here for a second?" Blaine hollered. He heard a pair of heels echo though the halls until he saw her head pop through the archway that led to the house from the patio.

"Yeah Boss? What is it?" the Latina asked.

"Santana, if you could please refrain from delivering my daily incriminations to me with my breakfast, I would greatly appreciate it," Blaine said dryly. Santana allowed a small smirk to appear on her face.

"And I thought you liked seeing your gorgeous face all over the papers," she answered. Blaine snorted.

"Not when there's a series of numbers on my chest," Blaine replied, getting up from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to change before I tend to the coffee plants today. Got to make an honest living somehow."

Santana began to re-enter the house when she noticed the familiar sad gaze Blaine had begun to wear on his face lately.

"Hey," she began. Blaine turned to look at her. Her long ebony hair was pulled back from her face this morning, giving Blaine a clear view of her emotions. Her dark eyes, normally twinkling with sass or mischief, showed nothing but sympathy and her full mouth was drawn in a tight line as she thought of what she was going to say.

"You know that I know you're not responsible for this right? And anyone who thinks so is a total idiot because I have never seen someone turn their lives around quite like you Blaine," Santana finished.

Blaine gave her a small smile in response. He always knew he could depend on Santana for anything. Hell, if Blaine wasn't gay he would have proposed to her years ago. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. But, even though he couldn't love her in that sense, he certainly loved her in every other aspect. One thing was for sure: Santana deserved a long vacation away from the villa, as soon as this Warbler business was taken care of.

"That makes one person Tana," Blaine sighed before heading into the villa. He went into his room and looked through his window at the spectacular view of the French Riviera, far from any city, any busy streets, and any people. Sighing softly, Blaine collapsed on top of his bed and closed his eyes in deep thought.

"_Listen kid, you have a ton of spunk. We're just not sure if you can handle the physical endurance needed to work for this company," the man began. Blaine's eyes widened and started to plead with the man. _

"_Please Mr…"_

"_Schuester" _

"_Please Mr. Schuester, you've got to give me a chance. I know I'm not as butch as some of your other 'employees' but, I'm fast. I could maneuver rooftops and alleyways probably better than most of your workers now. My size should be counted as an advantage as well, I could easily slip through windows, small doors…" _

"_Okay okay kid," Schuester held up a hand to silence him. He gazed at the small boy in front of him. He looked like an animated character with his big golden eyes and earnest smile;, not to mention the youthful innocence that practically rolled off of him. This kid was something else. That was for sure. He knew could give this kid any job and he would probably kiss his feet for months. _

"_Blaine right?" Schuester asked._

"_Yessir, Blaine Anderson," the boy replied confidently, sitting up just a little bit taller than he had before. _

"_Alright Blaine, I'll give you a shot. Welcome to The Resistance." _

_When Blaine arrived in the luxurious French Riviera, he had high hopes for a career in singing, acting, anything involving his name on a marquee. But show business, he quickly found out, was difficult anywhere, not just in New York. For weeks he went unemployed, taking up odd jobs just so he could pay for a decent meal and his rent. He was poor, in need of employment, and extremely desperate. It was during a job shining shoes that he overheard about jobs opening up in "The Resistance." It peaked Blaine's interest considerably. Of course, he would have taken any permanent job but for some reason the idea of working for this underground hush-hush business excited Blaine to no end. He envisioned trench coats and stakeouts and countless fedoras. So after asking around he managed to get an interview with the head of the organization: a Mr. Schuester, who promised him a job on the spot. Blaine was thrilled._

_Working for an anti-aristocracy and war group wasn't nearly as glamorous as Blaine imagined it would be. There were no code names, no secret words, and definitely no fedoras, at least, not until Blaine joined. He learned fast and quickly rose to the rank of field man. That was when his affair with the rooftops began. His slight build enabled him to easily shimmy up drain pipes and maneuver window ledges, allowing Blaine to get the best views of France anyone could ever see. However, the thrill of reconnaissance work wore off too soon and Blaine was not getting paid nearly enough for the work he was doing. Or so Blaine thought. _

_It started as a couple of dollars lying on the dresser or nightstand, like the owners would miss it. However, it quickly evolved into hundreds of dollars and into small knickknacks until Blaine found the perfect target: gems. Gems of all shapes and all sizes. The money he pawned from these rocks was eight times the pay Blaine received in a year at his real "job." It wasn't until he was caught by Schue with a string of pearls in his pocket that he truly gained revenue. His coworkers gladly turned the other cheek as they supplied him with apartments and homes to hit. He even got a nickname out of it once people swore they could hear a faint whistling after a home was robbed; like a canary, a warbler. What really jazzed it up was his addition of the feather. In hindsight, it wasn't the best idea but he was young and naïve; a nobody from Ohio who desperately moved to France to become a somebody. Well Blaine certainly was a somebody now. His parents would be so proud. _

_The next year flew by in a whirlwind of success and riches. The Warbler was a name showered in infamy around the entire Riviera and Blaine could not have been happier until one feather too many left him caught red-handed. Blaine and most of The Resistance were tried and promptly convicted of theft and conspiracy. Luckily for Blaine, The Resistance was excellent at covering up their tracks, so only three crimes could truly be connected to him. The sentence was by no means long, only three years, but for Blaine, it might as well had been a death sentence. Right then and there Blaine decided to end his old ways. He refused to participate in Resistance activities while in prison, earning him the resentment of his former coworkers for getting them arrested and then promptly abandoning them. He sat in his cell and stared out of a small window for one thousand and ninety five days until his release. On his first day of freedom, he packed up, bought his villa with the money he saved from his past life, and began growing coffee. That was four years ago; eight years total since he moved to France with ten dollars in his pocket._

Blaine opened his eyes and created patterns with the ceiling as he continued thinking. God he was just a kid then, not even nineteen. In a way he was still a kid, just a little over twenty six, but he'd grown more in those three years in prison than many people do in a lifetime. And now someone wanted to send him back. Who was this new Warbler? Why was he so determined to ruin his life by imitating his style perfectly, right down to whistling a damn tune? With a huff, Blaine sat up and headed to the door just to have it open in front of him. Astonished, he stood in front of a panic-stricken Santana.

"Blaine!" she hissed, "The police are here to talk to you!"

**Hello! Vintage Vagabond here. I get a little more room here to talk about the story here than the summary so here it goes! Thank you so much for reading this! I love To Catch a Thief starring Cary Grant and Grace Kelly and I thought it would be a lot of fun to write this with Kurt and Blaine as the starring roles! Don't worry Kurt will make his appearance eventually...it's just going to take a few chapters. Another quick note: All passages in italics are flashbacks, but I'm sure you guys have figured this out already! :) Thanks again!  
**


	3. Chapter 2

Blaine's eyes widened as Santana frantically described the extremely uncomfortable conversation she had just finished with the two inspectors currently standing in his living room.

"They said they needed to speak with you immediately. I tried to block them from the door but they just walked right in. I was tempted to just kick them out because you know I could totally do that. But, I figured that wouldn't help you any, you know with proving your innocence and all that," Santana finished.

"It's okay Santana. It wouldn't hurt to speak with them. They did say they only wanted to talk right?" Blaine asked warily. Santana nodded.

"Alright then, lets go talk to them, but Santana?" Blaine asked.

"Mmhmm?"

"Set it up, just in case." Santana nodded again. She gave him a knowing glance, her eyes twinkling as she headed to the closet adjacent to Blaine's room. After taking many, _many_ deep breaths Blaine exited his room and descended the staircase.

"Hello gentlemen, and what brings you to my secluded home this morning?" Blaine smiled grandly as he welcomed his unwanted guests.

"Diamonds," one of the men, a stocky, red-faced man who went by the name of Foussard, replied. Blaine's smile faltered.

"Diamonds? And why would anything involving diamonds interest me?" Blaine asked innocently. Foussard snorted while the other man, a smaller meeker man named Cotierre, spoke up.

"Mr. Anderson, do you really need to wonder why we're currently in the home of a renowned jewel thief when the subject of missing gems is the center of our conversation?"

"Now, you know I haven't stolen a jewel in years," Blaine protested. At that moment Santana descended down the steps and gave a curt nod in Blaine's direction.

"Bullshit Anderson," Foussard shot back, "These crimes have you written all over it. No sign of entry, no fingerprints or footprints, and even a yellow feather left at every scene." Blaine stared stonily at them both.

"Are you gentlemen here to question me or to sentence me?" he asked quietly, but with an unmatched intensity.

"Now now, all three of you, lets just calm down," Santana began, "Why don't we go out to the patio and talk this out like dignified men." None of them seemed willing to budge. She sighed.

"Fine, let me at least get you some coffee. Best in the area!" she said with a wink as she sauntered away into the kitchen, easily distracting two of the three men with her exit. But, not for long because Cotierre soon spoke up again.

"Listen Mr. Anderson, as much as we would enjoy some…coffee, we would much rather take you to the station for questioning," he stated.

"Of course," Blaine replied. "I understand the situation you two are in. If I were you I would suspect me too. Just let me change into some more suitable clothing. I don't think me in my pajamas would leave the best impression there."

"Sure Mr. Anderson, you can go and change." Blaine bowed his head graciously.

"Thank you sirs." Blaine left and entered his room. He locked his door and slowly let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. He had to act quickly. He changed into something more proper for town and glanced at his reflection in the mirror to see if there was anything he could do to his hair. There wasn't. Observing the room, he finally located what he had been looking for: a small pistol. He grabbed the gun delicately and looked toward his open window.

"Thanks Santana," Blaine whispered.

The woman who currently had Blaine's thanks handed the two inspectors some coffee as they waited for Blaine to change. Seconds turned to minutes and Santana saw the men grow restless before her very eyes. When it finally reached the point where they could wait no longer, a loud shout rang out from the master bedroom.

"Oh my god!" Santana shrieked as the men scrambled up the steps and, after a few shoves, slammed the door opened. Expecting the worst, the men were shocked to see a black ring of smoke on the back wall, a small pistol with a string attached to a newly closed window, and no Blaine Anderson in sight.

"That son of a bitch!" Foussard roared as they watched from the window: a sprite individual jump into a vehicle and speed away. They dashed out of the house and clambered into their car, leaving Santana, who let out a loud sigh of relief as she watched the inspectors' car move in hot pursuit of her boss and her dearest friend.

Blaine wasn't that keen on driving. With the winding roads surrounding his home and most of the Riviera, it wasn't a surprise as to why. Nevertheless, Blaine sped on the local country roads as if he practiced on them everyday. As he maneuvered tight turns, Blaine kept glancing in the rear view mirror to see how much of a head start Santana's plan had given him. He thought back to the day Santana showed him that string trick when he first hired her. Now he could add that ruse to the ever growing list of why Santana was invaluable to him and definitely due for that vacation _and_ a raise when he returned home.

"That is if I get the chance to go home," Blaine thought grimly. After five minutes of aimless driving he finally saw a police car in his mirror. He pressed on the gas petal and hoped the police weren't too familiar with the back roads. As he made a particularly sharp turn, he managed to dodge an old man leading his livestock across the road; consequently leaving his pursuers behind herds of goats. This was his chance. Driving his car to a foliage covered area, Blaine hopped out and watched the inspectors' car speed past him. Blaine ran in the opposite direction until he saw what he was looking for: a bus stop. Hopping in the shuttle to town, Blaine glanced to where he left his roadster, only to see it being searched by the inspectors already. Blaine grimaced. He had really liked that car.

Although town was not a place that Blaine was completely comfortable with, due to his face adorning even the smaller local papers, it was the only place where he knew he could get some outside help. He couldn't simply have Santana roundhouse kick anyone who showed up to arrest him, no matter how many times she had told him she wouldn't mind one bit. No, he needed to handle this now. He stepped into an elegant restaurant overlooking the ocean and approached the hostess who began to speak without looking up.

"Hello, welcome to Schue's, how many are in your…," the hostess finally looked at Blaine, only to have her eyes widen and quickly narrow.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here Warbler," the woman sneered.

"Hi Quinn, it's nice to see you too. May I please speak to Will? It's kind of important," Blaine said, trying the polite approach. Quinn's blue eyes only seemed to narrow more.

"I highly doubt that he's willing to talk to you," she scoffed.

"I'm willing to try," Blaine said tightly, his smile plastered on his face. His patience with Quinn had always been small, but today it took everything Blaine had not to lose his temper. He needed her to like him, if only for a few minutes. Quinn eyed his disheveled hair which was almost always gelled, and the dark circles under his tea-colored eyes before she gave Blaine a slight nod and left to find her boss. Blaine's shoulders slumped in relief as he followed her through the corridors of the restaurant.

Shue's office was clearly not made for a simple restaurant owner. With every angle of his restaurant visible from his chair, thanks to the large windows surrounding the office, William Schuester could see anything and everything that walked through his doors for any kind of business. This was exactly why Blaine felt as if he was in a giant fishbowl as his old co-workers glared at him through the glass while he discussed his dilemma with his former boss.

"Why hello Blaine, I'm surprised the police are letting a bird like you free after last night's robbery. Your best one yet if I do say so myself," Will smirked. Blaine gave no response.

"I can't say I didn't see this coming though," Will continued, "It's not long until a thief is itching to get back to their old ways. I am surprised that it took you this long. How long has it been? Six years?" Will asked.

"Yes, and it'll be seven in two months," Blaine replied fiercely. "I haven't done anything since they locked me up Schue. You know you would be the first person I'd contact if I needed a place to hit. Somebody's trying to frame me. Why else would they duplicate my signature perfectly? I don't know why I've become a target but now every newspaper is reporting on my return. One more theft like this and I'll be locked up for the rest of my life. I just... I cannot handle prison again," Blaine shuddered.

Will's eyes softened in understanding and he stared at Blaine a long time before speaking up.

"Listen Blaine, I can't say that I didn't think you were behind these incidents when they were first being reported. But, if there's one thing that I remember about you is that you always owned up to a theft if you actually committed it. Maybe is was fueled by a need of attention, but you always _always_ confessed. So if you say you didn't commit these crimes, I may just have to believe you." Blaine's eye's lit up.

"Really Mr. Schue? Thank you, it means so much to know that you're on my side," Blaine said relieved. Will just chuckled.

"Now, I know you didn't risk being recognized just so you could get a supporter," Will stated knowingly. Blaine gave him a sheepish smile.

"You know me too well Mr. Schue. I was trying to think of a way I can prove my innocence and the only way I believe I can convince the police that I'm not the thief is to catch him myself.

"Sounds like a plan you'd come up with Anderson," Will grinned, "What do you need me for?"

"I know you have connections," Blaine began. When he saw the tiniest nod from Will he continued.

"What I need from you is a list of the wealthiest visitors in the Riviera at the moment. It's necessary for me to know-" Blaine was cut off by Will's laughter,

"Seriously Anderson? First of all, I don't have any list like that. I've stopped with that part of the business. Secondly, do you think anyone would be willing to give you such a list after what you've been accused of?" Will asked.

"I've got to try!" Blaine yelled, "I can't just sit here and watch my name turn into ruin. Have I done things I'm not proud of? Yes! Yes I have but," Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, "But I'm not committing these crimes. I'm not and I just, I have to catch this guy. I have to."

Will sighed.

"Okay Blaine. I think I know a guy who has such a list. He works for a company that insures jewels. I think I have his number stored in a Rolodex somewhere. Let me go look for it." They both stood up.

"Why don't you go talk to your old Resistance buddies while I find that number? I'm sure they would love to speak with you." Blaine hesitated before speaking up, "That's alright Mr. Schue…I can wait in here," Blaine glanced behind him to see the entire kitchen staff watching him through the glass. Blaine was fairly certain that was the last place he wanted to be at the moment.

"Nonsense," Will said he shooed Blaine out of his office and closed the door, leaving Blaine alone. Blaine gave an audible gulp and turned around to face a room filled with his old friends. No one said a word. Quinn gave him dirty looks as she entered and left the kitchen with orders, Mike and Tina gossiped in the corner while washing dishes, and Sam chopped vegetables with much more force than Blaine deemed necessary. Just as Blaine cleared his throat, a resounding yell echoed through the kitchen. Blaine turned to the source only to have a very pissed-off Noah Puckerman right in front of him.

"My God everyone! Am I the one who is going to have to speak the opinion of the entire group?" Puck questioned. He then turned menacingly toward Blaine. Blaine lifted his head to look at Puck. He first noticed the familiar tired gaze of someone who had spent a number of years in prison. One glance at Puck's fury filled eyes let Blaine know who Puck thought was responsible for his imprisonment.

"Listen Anderson, I don't think I have to say this but here it goes: nobody here likes you, nobody wants you here, You can't just turn into an Egg's Benedict and expect everyone to forgive you seven years later. Honestly, I don't see anyone objecting to me finishing you right here. Your new thefts are ruining our lives! We might get sent back because of you!" Puck roared. Despite Blaine's slight confusion at being called a breakfast dish, there was nothing but terror in his eyes as Puck advanced toward him and backed him into a wall. Puck raised his fist and swung at Blaine, only to have it miss when a sharp "Cut it out!" rang through the kitchen. Puck let out an annoyed groan.

"Dude, seriously. I know you want to lay one on him as much as anyone else," Puck huffed. Nevertheless, he walked away and let the calm and collected Jesse St. James take his place in front. Blaine did not feel any relief.

"Well, well, if it isn't our local canary." Jesse drawled, causing Blaine's eyes to blaze with hate stored away from old grudges. Blaine shut his eyes and prepared for the verbal beating he was about to retrieve. Although he and Jesse might have been close long ago, he was the first to dismiss Blaine and treat him like he meant nothing to The Resistance once he was caught. Blaine always hated him for that. That and the fact that Jesse miraculously escaped prison time while Blaine got a year tacked on for a crime he was fairly sure Jesse committed. Like Blaine would have stolen from a jewelry store. Honestly. Where was the fun in that?

Blaine slowly opened his eyes to see that Jesse was saying nothing. Not a word incriminating him or defending him. He just stared at Blaine like a puzzle he couldn't figure out, which was unnerving. Just when Blaine couldn't take anymore, Will showed up and quickly ushered him inside after snapping at the staff to get back to work. Blaine, physically shaking with anger, slowly sank down in a chair. He placed his head in his hands to calm down.

"Sorry it took so long. I forgot I had at least four Rolodexes filled with names. Here you are." Will handed Blaine the card. Blaine raised his head and eyed the card carefully before speaking aloud.

"A mister F. Hudson, specializing in the insurance of jewels. He's been working for Montral's Insurance for, jeez Schue only three years? How can this guy have any accounts at all? Never mind any rich ones!" Blaine snapped. Will held his hands up defensively.

"Hey, I don't know how this guy does it. Maybe he just turns on that boyish charm that I remember you having one point in your life. All I know is that he has some of the best clients. I'd speak to him as soon as possible if I were you."

Blaine glanced at the card warily. What did he have to lose?

"Alright, how do I go making contact?" Will simply grinned.

"Already took care of that for you. He seemed interested in doing business simply because he'd like to stop paying his clients for stolen gems. Surprisingly, insurance companies don't do well when they actually have to insure. Imagine that. Anyway, he said he would call the phone at the Hotel de Vertaine in an hour or so. You can figure out where to meet then. I'd travel there fast if I were you." Blaine nodded in response. He stood up to shake Will's hand.

"Thank you for this. I certainly owe you one," Blaine stated.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Will replied. At that moment, Quinn entered the office, worry etched on her delicate face.

"Mr. Schuester, the police wish to speak with you on the matter of Blaine Anderson," Quinn said. Will's and Blaine's eyes glanced to the door where the two inspectors from before waited patiently at the hostess stand. Blaine had never been more thankful for Mr. Schue standing exactly where he was at the moment, hiding Blaine from their view. Will eyed Blaine before speaking.

"Quinn, take Blaine out back and find a change of clothes for him. Tell Jessie to find someone who can maneuver his way around a boat. He'll know who I want. Make sure Jesse knows it's vital for Blaine to leave as soon as possible okay? I've got to go handle this. Nice seeing you Blaine. Hopefully the next time we meet it will be under different circumstances."

The petite blonde grabbed Blaine's wrist and dragged him out of the office and through the back rooms. Blaine glanced behind him to see Schue conversing with the inspectors just before one of them made eye contact with Blaine. Crud.

Now outside, Quinn and Blaine were both sprinting toward the docks. Blaine was accustomed to running but he had never felt this panicked. If he was caught now, that was it. Once they reached the boats, a bag stuffed with clothes was thrust in Blaine's hands. He was shoved onto a small vessel and ordered into the cramped captain's quarters.

"Now stay down there and don't even think about coming out before the captain tells you to come out," Quinn hissed.

"How will I know it's the right captain?" Blaine whispered. Peering out of the door, he saw Quinn's mouth turn up ever so slightly.

"Oh, you'll know," she replied. As she was closing the door, Blaine quickly reached out and grasped her hand.

"Thanks Quinnie," Blaine whispered. Quinn only narrowed her eyes in response.

"Don't thank me, thank Schue. Why you are still his favorite I'll never know." And with that, she was gone, leaving Blaine in the dark alone with his thoughts.

Waiting, Blaine decided a long time ago, was the absolute worst part of a job. While some said the thrill lied in the anticipation, Blaine whole-heartedly disagreed. For him, the best part was the picking of the lock and slipping inside a window or door. It was the climbing onto rooftops and ledges and the hiding from the enemy. But, not the waiting. Definitely not the waiting. He sat in the dark for that seemed like hours. Although he realized it was probably a couple of minutes, the antsy feeling never left him. Staring into a pitch black nothing where time seemed to stop, Blaine slowly closed his eyes.

_"A Mr. Blaine Anderson," the officer's voice echoed throughout the stark white hall. Blaine felt a rough hand grip his arm and guide him through the hallway. They reached a large unwelcoming door before he was led inside an equally eerie room with a metal table and two matching chairs. One chair was empty while the other held a rather large and foreboding man. Blaine's shackled feet slowly dragged across the concrete floor. He sat down and immediately stared down at his hands. "Don't make eye contact," a voice echoed inside his head, "If you make eye contact they'll believe you think you are superior." So Blaine kept his head down._

_ "Mr. Anderson, you have now served your entire sentence here. May I ask why you never applied for parole? Your report here says you've been a model prisoner here since day one. So, why no parole?" The warden asked, genuine curiosity seeping through his voice. Blaine licked his chapped lips before responding. _

_ "I didn't think I deserved to be released sir," he answered. The warden stared at him in disbelief and spoke up again. _

_ "Kid, we have proven serial killers here saying they deserve a second chance. Jeez, did they beat the spunk out of you here?" the man chuckled, oblivious to the flinch Blaine emitted. Blaine winced internally as he recalled being slammed into walls. He remembered the impact of fists directed toward his abdomen, his chest, and everywhere else. His small frame might have been useful for thieving, but it was useless in combat. At least he was quick enough to avoid most confrontations. But not all of them. _

_ "Mr. Anderson?" the warden asked, snapping Blaine out of his thoughts. _

_ "Oh I'm sorry sir, What did you say?" he inquired. The warden chuckled again. _

_ "You sure are a meek one aren't you?" the warden muttered. _

_"Not weak," Blaine thought, "Broken." Blaine mustered up the courage to stare at the warden. He hoped it wouldn't seem to bold. If it was, the warden didn't give any indication of it. Blaine let out an internal sigh of relief. The warden cleared his throat. _

_ "Okay Anderson, I see no reason as to why you cannot be released today. You served all of you time so you deserve your freedom. Let me get an officer to get your things and I'll round up some forms for you to sign." He stood up and left, leaving Blaine in the small white room. He promptly returned with Blaine's possessions, some papers, and the key to Blaine's handcuffs. With the click of a lock, the scribble of a pen, and a fresh set of clothes, Blaine was a free man. A free man who never felt more lost and more trapped. _

A sharp rock in the boat jolted Blaine awake. He sunk even deeper into the captain's quarters. The boat suddenly roared to life and Blaine silently prayed that Quinn didn't put him on the wrong boat just to screw with him. A couple of minutes passed before an oily voice called out from above.

"This is your captain speaking. Will the lovely songbird known as Blaine Anderson please come up? Hiding in the dark is hardly the proper way to thank your rescuer. Even if it has been seven years since our last meeting," the voice purred.

Blaine screwed his eyes shut and let out a series of expletives all directed toward Schue. Of course Will would chose him to drive the boat. To help him. Who else, but Sebastian Smythe?

* * *

**Hello again readers! Hopefully you are enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I realized when I posted the last chapter I forgot the disclaimer! (Oops!) So here it goes!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel or any of the wonderful characters of Glee that I have borrowed for this story. They all belong to RIB. Also, I do not own John Robie, Francis Stevens or any of the plot of To Catch a Thief, directed by the wonderful Alfred Hitchcock.  
**

**Thanks again for reading! :)  
**


	4. Chapter 3

Blaine contemplated jumping overboard. The fact that he was in the middle of the ocean meant nothing to him; he was willing to swim any distance to get away from this boat. Reluctantly, Blaine unlatched the door and headed up the steps toward the front of the boat. Blaine rolled his eyes when he caught sight of the perfectly coiffed hair of Sebastian Smythe. Blaine cleared his throat in hopes of getting this awkward conversation over with. Sebastian slowly turned around and gave Blaine his signature smile that Blaine once found attractive.

"Why, hello there Blaine, I was wondering why it was taking you so long to see me. And I don't just mean these last few minutes," Sebastian winked. Blaine gagged a little.

"Hi Seb, thanks for helping me out," Blaine said through gritted teeth. "Now I'm just gonna go back down. Can't be noticed in public you know…" Blaine attempted to leave before a hand caught his arm.

"C'mon Blaine, are you really saying you don't want to talk to me?" Sebastian asked brazenly. Blaine's eyes looked toward the shore. He could totally swim that far. Sebastian's eyes followed Blaine's gaze before he let out a small laugh.

"I'd say go for it Anderson, but I'm pretty sure canaries can't swim," he grinned slyly. Blaine scowled back.

"God Seb, you too? I thought out of everyone you would believe me," Blaine said. Suddenly, Sebastian leaned in close and whispered hotly into Blaine's ear.

"Why?" he questioned, "Because of our past?" He took a step back and admired the shade of red Blaine's face had turned.

"If you mean the fact that you, Jesse, and I were practically brothers before my arrest then yeah," Blaine huffed. Sebastian's gaze hardened.

"You don't get to talk about the past like that," Sebastian snapped. "You were the one who got careless. You almost dragged both of us with you. Luckily Jesse is a fast thinker, the rest of The Resistance minus Schue wasn't so lucky. Whether we had ended up going to jail or not, you abandoned us Blaine."

"Because Jesse had nothing to do with my extra year in prison," Blaine muttered.

"No he didn't! He said he wasn't involved so I believe him," Sebastian said defensively.

"Well damn Seb, I didn't realize you were practically in love wit the guy now," Blaine shot back. Sebastian's eyes widened in amusement before settling back into a confident gaze.

"Blaine, you know Jesse and I are basically brothers. You, however, were always more than that." Sebastian strolled over and slowly placed his hands on Blaine's waist.

"Always," he repeated. Blaine wriggled out of Sebastian's grip before shooting back a reply.

"Well that makes one of us," he said icily. He knew it was harsh and maybe untrue, but the last person Blaine wanted back in his life was Smythe. Sebastian's eyes showed regret for a millisecond. It was barely there, but it didn't go unnoticed.

XXX

_"Hey there!" a voice called behind Blaine. He turned to see a bright eyed boy the same age if not a little younger than him. His brown hair fell slightly in his eyes as he gave Blaine a megawatt smile. The boy was gorgeous, Blaine couldn't deny it, but, what really stuck him was confidence this boy exuded. It was like he had his finger on the pulse of this operation more than anyone. _

_ "Hi," Blaine mumbled shyly. He already was making a fool of himself in front of this extremely attractive guy who probably had a hot French girlfriend waiting for him at the end of the day. She probably wore designer clothing and covered her silky blonde hair with a cute beret and…"_

_ "So you have to be new, cause I find it hard to believe I could forget a face like yours," the mystery boy said sweetly. _

_ Blaine's jaw dropped. Was this guy serious? Mystery guy gave him a small smile and then winked. Actually winked. At Blaine. Okay, so maybe this guy was serious. _

_ "Well, yeah I'm the new guy I guess. My name's Blaine," he said tentatively. The stranger then stuck out his hand. Blaine grasped his hand and gave him a meek handshake. _

_ "I'm Sebastian," the newly named boy said. "C'mon let me show you around, no one will mess with you if you stick with me." Blaine followed him, a small smile was on his face as he looked at the boy to his left. He would most definitely be sticking with him. _

_ The first thing Sebastian Smythe did that day was introduce Blaine to Jesse St. James, Blaine's eventual second best friend and later enemy. The second thing that Sebastian did was ask Blaine out on a date, which Blaine quickly accepted. He never met someone who was so comfortable and confident with himself. Even Blaine, who was proud of who he was, would have never had the guts to do what Sebastian did. It impressed him, and it definitely was a factor in agreeing to their first date. And that date led to a second date which led to a third which led to Blaine's first real relationship. _

_ It wasn't love, Blaine realized after almost seven months of dating. Sure Sebastian made him feel cherished and desired. There wasn't a day when Blaine didn't wake up to sweet kisses peppering his face and he loved it. He loved how Sebastian called him "Baby" and how he made Blaine shiver with just the touch of his hand. But he didn't love Sebastian. Blaine realized later it was because he was so alone when he first arrived, that he needed to feel wanted. But he didn't need that anymore; so he ended it. Sebastian didn't mind. In fact he seemed almost glad to move on. It was barely a week later until Blaine spotted a new boy on Sebastian's arm. The week after that it was a different boy. This pattern repeated itself like clockwork each week and with each new face, Blaine felt less like a person and more like a number._

XXX

Blaine stared at Sebastian, expecting him to deliver his hundredth apology and the thousandth reason as to why they should try again. Sebastian didn't disappoint.

"Blaine, I know I keep saying this but-"

"Save it Seb. Just get me to the hotel and neither of us have to see each other again okay?" Blaine turned from him and walked toward the back of the boat. Sebastian who had just taken the boat off of auto-pilot turned for a second, the regret in his eyes now replaced with the usual sarcastic glint.

"Alright, no need to get your feathers all ruffled," he said turning back to the controls. Blaine clenched his teeth.

"Seb, cut it out. I'm not doing this," Blaine spat.

"I don't see why you're denying this. Everyone else might be pissed, but I think it's all kinds of hot. The Warbler back again. I knew you hadn't gone straight. Well, I always knew you weren't straight in once sense." Sebastian chuckled as his own joke. Blaine was less amused.

"This is why I have to nail this guy, it's ruining my rebuilt reputation," Blaine stated. Sebastian merely responded with a sarcastic "kinky" and continued steering the boat. Blaine eye's wandered to the sky where he saw a small plane in the distance. There was the search party he guessed.

"Seb, I think that plane might me searching for me. I'm going down to change clothes. Slow the boat down a smidge and try not to act like a getaway driver okay?" Blaine disappeared into the room below.

"You mean I have to miss the show? Damn," Sebastian laughed casually as the plane flew directly over the boat. It kept on flying, moving on to the next watercraft in the ocean.

"Alright songbird, I think they've moved on and you've officially arrived at your destination. You sure you aren't going to be recognized with a pretty face like yours?" he called to Blaine. Blaine let out a muffled reply from below.

"I highly doubt anyone's going to recognize me in lime green swim trunks." And with a splash, Blaine jumped ship and swam toward the resort beaches of the Hotel de Vertaine.

XXX

The water quickly calmed Blaine down as he swan toward the shore, carrying his waterproof bag with him. He hated how Sebastian knew all of the right nerves to strike with him. Blaine kept swimming and attempted to erase the last half hour from his mind. It wasn't an easy feat. He reached the warm beaches of the resort and gazed upon the beach goers. Finding an open spot in the hot sand, he lay down and soaked up some sun while he waited for a phone call.

He barely closed his eyes when he was nudged in the side. Blaine's dark lashes flickered open and he observed a man staring at him impatiently.

"Yes?" Blaine questioned.

"Are you Monsieur Anderson?" the man asked.

"Indeed I am."

"Telephone for you Monsieur," the man said before walking back to his post. Blaine stood up, brushed the sand off of his side and allowed his eyes to follow the man in the much appreciated short swim trunks. Blaine suddenly remembered how much he loved the beach. Blaine wandered over to the telephone and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?" a voice asked, "Is this a Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes it is," Blaine answered.

"Oh okay good. I was worried I might have the wrong person and then I was going to have to call again and ask the same guy from before to find you and-" the man rambled.

"A nervous one," Blaine thought, "Great."

"Pardon me, but you are Mr. F. Hudson right?" Blaine inquired.

"Oh of course, sorry I forgot we've never met. Yeah, that's me. So, before we decide whether or not we want to do business together, why don't we figure out a place to meet? Maybe we can even have lunch. Ooh there's this traveling carnival that's currently located in Bellfontaine square. We could meet up there!" Hudson exclaimed. Blaine bit his tongue to hold back a scoff. How old was this guy? Eleven?

"Sure Mr. Hudson, that sounds fine. Bellfontaine square at ten a.m. tomorrow?" Blaine proposed.

"Yeah that works great. But wait, how will I know who you are?" Mr. Hudson asked.

"You mean you don't read the papers Mr. Hudson? You should be well acquainted with my face by now. Nevertheless, I'll be sporting a yellow bow-tie and playing with a deck of cards. Sound alright?"

"Yeah that sounds fine. See you then." The phone clicked and the line went dead. Blaine stepped away from the phone and went into the bathhouse to change, unaware that somebody else heard the entire conversation.

XXX

Meeting at a carnival, Blaine decided, was an incredibly stupid idea. The noise, the people, plus bow-ties were a common piece of attire. Just his luck. Hundreds of people flooded the square, playing midway games designed for idiot savants, riding rides, or simply enjoying the day. Blaine situated himself in the shopping district of the fair, right between the jewelry and exotic foods. He only hoped that Hudson would spot him in this madness. He mindlessly shuffled his deck of cards. Performing card tricks was just one of the many ways Blaine earned money when he first moved. The familiar weight of the cards as he played with them calmed him down as he waited for his meeting. During his fifth shuffle of the deck he heard a cough. Blaine looked up, and then looked up some more to see the person now standing in front of him.

He was tall. Blaine might have been at a height where he considered anyone taller than him as a tall person but, this guy was basically a giant. He was skinny too, his too-big suit hung awkwardly on him like a kid playing dress-up in his father's clothes. Blaine opted to overlook the eyesore of a tie the man was wearing and focused on his face instead. He was young, as Blaine suspected, no more than a year or two older than Blaine himself. This made Blaine nervous. A guy like this couldn't possibly have that much experience in the jewel business. But he was willing to trust Blaine, or at least give him a chance and Blaine was grateful for that. The man gave Blaine a half smile before speaking up.

"Mr. Anderson? I sure hope I'm talking to the right person," he stated as he scratched the back of his neck. Worry seeped through his words. Blaine smiled warmly.

"I am if you are a Mr. Hudson." Mr. Hudson held up a hand in response.

"Please Mr. Anderson, I feel weird when anyone calls me that. Please call me Finn," the man pleaded.

"Only if you call me Blaine," Blaine said. Finn's small smile grew into a genuine one. He happily held out his hand to shake, which Blaine accepted.

"Cool. Should we start walking? I've been meaning to check out this place for a couple of days. I thought maybe we could get to know each other a little as well. No place like a carnival to have fun right?" Finn said as they started walking past the brightly colored tents. Blaine only looked at him. Finn was puzzled.

"What's the problem Mr. Anders-err Blaine?" Finn quickly corrected himself. Blaine's compact figure tensed considerably at the mention of his name before answering.

"I'm sorry Finn, but if we want to discuss back story and motives we must do it somewhere a little more private than this. Don't want anyone to overhear us," Blaine spoke sharply. Finn cursed inwardly. He really needed to not screw this up.

"Okay sure, I understand. Ummm," Finn paused, lost in thought, before snapping back into reality. "I assume it'd be okay for me to speak about my reasons for wanting to help you at least?" Blaine nodded.

"Alright, awesome. So I'm fairly new to this kind of business," Finn began.

"So I gathered by your age," Blaine replied coolly. Finn swallowed audibly. It was clear he was walking on eggshells with this guy. He stopped walking and took in his surroundings to calm down. They had wandered into the gardens. Flowers, plants, and trees surrounded them, secluding them from possible prying eyes.

"Right erm, so I love where I work and I'm really good at my job. I know I might seem inexperienced, but I don't know. I'm just really good with people and they trust me to take care of their things." Finn stared at Blaine and prayed that he had been convincing enough. He had been. Blaine believed Finn's story. Blaine himself could confirm that Finn was good with people. Excluding a few awkward moments, Blaine felt that he could trust Finn. This was a big deal since he only truly trusted a grand total of three people in his life, two of which were his parents, and even then he wondered.

"Anyway," Finn continued, "Right after I nabbed a huge client for the company, this Warbler dude started robbing homes and causing havoc in the office. Most of my clients have had items stolen from them and now very few people are willing to do business with the company, including myself. I mean, we still have enough clients, otherwise I wouldn't be able to provide you a list, but I'd really like to catch this guy," Finn finished. They had begun walking again and ended up in the center of the square, vendors selling everything and anything surrounding them. Finn turned to look at Blaine. Finn noticed Blaine was focusing a steely-eyed gaze behind them. He then abruptly started walking deeper into the carnival at a quicker pace. Finn followed.

"So you can definitely give me a list?" Blaine questioned.

"Yeah, with about ten names or so. Will that work?" Blaine picked up his pace to a fast walk and made a sharp turn before responding.

"A list like that will be perfect. Now does your office know you are helping me out?" They had worked themselves to a small jog. Finn finally looked around to try to find the source of Blaine's odd behavior. It didn't take him long to spot two men following them at a similar pace. Oh. Finn then realized he hadn't answered Blaine yet.

"Well, not exactly," he said slowly. Blaine barked out a laugh. "But they do know I went to get outside help. They just don't know about you," Finn puffed. He and Blaine weaved through crowds as they tried to lose their pursuers.

"Alright Finn. You reeled me in like any other customer of yours. I would love to get that list from you as quickly as possible, but if you don't mind, under different circumstances. I'm not very keen on being followed. Where can I reach you?" Blaine panted.

"At the Hotel de Vertaine, room 381," Finn said through short breaths. He looked behind him again to see that they still had followers. They ran for a couple of minutes, dodging flower stands and food carts before Blaine responded.

"Alright Finn, I'll leave you a message tonight. Now if you'll excuse me," Blaine took off into a full sprint, leaving Finn to watch him and the two men fly past.

Blaine changed his mind about the carnival. Although it might have been a tad problematic to conduct business there, it was perfect for making a getaway. Blaine weaved through the crowds with ease and dashed toward the giant group of people gathered near the Ferris Wheel in hopes of losing the men in a large crowd. He kept running, not pausing to check whether or not he was still being followed. When he reached the near edge of the carnival, Blaine stopped to catch his breath. He leaned over, clutching his knees for support and took a couple of gulps of air. He stood up and saw the two men a mere twenty feet away. He ducked into the shadows, but it was too late, they spotted him. Blaine took off again, the men hot on his heels. He ran into the closest building he could reach: the hall of mirrors. Blaine blindly maneuvered his way through the dark mirrored hall, frantically attempting to find a way out. He heard the murmurs of the men behind him. He only had a few moments before they caught him. Blaine found a small nook between two mirrors and slipped inside. He waited until a small light appeared at the end of the mirrored hall, the light bouncing from panel to panel. Blaine held his breath. As they drew closer, Blaine grew surer that they would be able to spot his hiding place. Before Blaine knew it, they appeared right in front of him. The hairs on the back of Blaine's neck stood up as he felt the breath of one of the men on his face. Blaine shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable. It never came .The men pushed on through the maze, leaving Blaine in the dark. He counted the seconds, five…ten…fifteen…twenty… Almost a minute passed before Blaine decided it was safe enough to move. He slipped out of the crevice and made his way through the maze backwards, emerging at the entrance. He spotted the two men way out in the distance, looking utterly frustrated. Blaine smiled and walked in the opposite direction, whistling his favorite tune and becoming just another face in the crowd.

XXX

Blaine stood in front of his bathroom mirror the following afternoon, debating between gelling his curls or leaving them be. Blaine decided he _was _dressing to impress so he took a small dollop of gel and tamed his curls just a smidge. There was a small rap on the door just as Blaine reached for more product.

"Come in," Blaine stated. He turned back to the mirror to see Santana in the reflection, his gel in her hand. How she had managed to get it in the two seconds she was in the bathroom was beyond Blaine. He had quit trying to figure out Santana's ways years ago. He instead lived in a state of either perpetual amazement or annoyance. Whether Blaine was impressed or irritated never bothered Santana. She knew if he was miffed, it was because she was the only one who knew how to outsmart the Warbler.

"What are you doing with this?" Santana demanded. "I thought I threw all of this out last week!" Blaine gave a meek smile in response. Santana let out an exasperated huff before opening the bottle and emptying it in the sink and down the drain. Blaine rushed toward her in a frenzy but he only held an empty bottle in his hand.

"Santana!" he sputtered, "I just got that while I was in town! I can't convince Finn I'm capable of pulling this operation off if I look like a wild man!" The silence that followed was one of harsh judgment. Blaine bowed his head in defeat. Santana gave him a victorious grin.

"Blaine, you always look capable and professional, curls or no curls. Besides, this Hudson seems like he wouldn't know either way. I'm sure you can charm your way to that list. Anyway, I came up to let you know that the house is ready for company. Also, whenever Mr. Hudson decides to arrive, which I'm guessing will be tomorrow, I'll prep lunch." Blaine chuckled before turning around and capturing Santana in a friendly embrace.

"Have I told you today that I would be lost without you?" he asked teasingly.

"No, not today but you said it at least six times yesterday so I suppose I forgive you," she smiled before leaving this bathroom.

"I mean it Tana!" Blaine called out before facing his reflection again. He looked…good enough. He entered his room and looked out his window. He let his mind wander as he gazed at his coffee fields and thought of all the hard work that went into them. There was no way he was going to give all of this up without a fight. No way. Blaine saw a car pull up to the villa. He exited his room, traveled downstairs, and went into the foyer to greet his guest.

"Hello Mr. Hudson," Blaine said welcomely, "Thanks for agreeing to discuss further matters at my home. As you can probably guess, public places aren't the best for me right now." Finn nodded his head in understanding.

"No problem man, and don't forget, it's Finn not Mr. Hudson," Finn insisted.

"Alright Finn, lets go out on the patio for some drinks while we chat business. I've found that I'm much more convincing when everyone else is drunk," Blaine joked. Finn laughed and followed him outside. Finn stopped when he saw the view and let out a low whistle. Blaine may seem modest in person but his home certainly suggested otherwise. To Finn's surprise, a whistle similar to the one he had just emitted echoed back to him. He turned to the source of the noise and saw in an ornate cage, a yellow canary. Finn gave Blaine a wry grin.

"Don't you think that might be a little much?" he asked. He gazed at Blaine, who was in the process of opening a bottle of wine. Blaine looked up from his task and smirked.

"Don't worry, he hasn't flown out of that cage in years." Blaine opened the bottle with a loud pop and poured wine into two glasses. He handed one to Finn.

"Cheers," Blaine said as their glasses clinked together.

"So Finn, I couldn't help but notice you ogling at my villa earlier. I was wondering what you were expecting when you pulled up," Blaine stated slyly. Finn took a gulp of wine before responding.

"I dunno, I mean – I knew you wouldn't be living in a one room apartment, but it's just much more extravagant than I thought you would like." Blaine stared at him incredulously.

"I didn't steal all of those jewels just so I could stare at them all day. I hated being penniless. I sure as hell wasn't going to give the money I earned away," Blaine said, taking a sip of wine.

"Wow, okay. So you really did steal all of those jewels back then?" Finn asked. Blaine nodded.

"To be fair, I only stole from people who wouldn't have missed the money. But yes, I'm a former thief," Blaine shrugged nonchalantly. He glanced at Finn, only to see his staring uncomfortably at his shoes. Blaine looked at him curiously. Something was up.

"I told the police what we're up to," Finn finally blurted. Blaine took a second to calm down before responding.

"And what did they say?" he asked, eyes squeezed shut.

"They were actually supportive of the idea," Finn said excitingly. Blaine snorted.

"Trust me, they only hope that this way, they can catch me red-handed. Anyway, let's take our drinks to the table okay? I think lunch is almost ready." They wandered to the dining room and sat down. Finn's mouth watered as he stared at all of the food in front of him. A beautiful Latina came in with some form of stew. He eyed both the soup and the girl appreciatively before digging in. Blaine thanked the woman before eating his own meal.

"Just so you know, this entire meal is courtesy of Santana, my housekeeper, cook, and overall savior. The best food I can make is microwavable Easy Mac and a grilled cheese," Blaine joked.

"Are you kidding me Blaine? I just got the scorch marks off of the stove top from your last attempt at making a grilled cheese," Santana hollered from the kitchen. Blaine smiled into his stew.

"Well, everything is really good. Santana is an awesome cook, and she's not bad to look at either," Finn grinned.

"Yeah, Santana definitely has a knack for attracting attention… She once kicked a guy in the balls so hard he apparently blacked out for five days," Blaine said casually, eating another spoonful of soup. Finn paled considerably as Santana called out again.

"I'm still sticking to my story that he kicked himself in the balls!" Blaine chuckled before talking.

"So Finn, how about that list?" Finn reached into his breast pocket before hesitating.

"What's wrong?" Blaine questioned. Finn opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He finally spoke a few seconds later.

"It's just, how do I know you aren't really committing these crimes? I could get fired if you just take this list and steal more jewelry. I can't lose my job!"

Blaine sighed.

"Finn, in a way, you're a business man right?" Finn nodded. Blaine continued. "Okay, so on your trips, do you ever take the mini-shampoos in the hotel rooms?" Finn nodded again.

"Alright," Blaine stated, "You're a thief."

"But they expect you to take those!" Finn protested.

"True, but they still have to pay for more of the bottles right? And what about this lunch? Are you going to deduct it from your expense account?" Finn shook his head no. Blaine smiled.

"Then you're a thief."

"C'mon Blaine, you can't expect every man to deduct every little thing from their expense account." Blaine's gaze hardened.

"That's the difference between me and every other man Finn. When the hotel management discovers missing shampoo, they don't come after you. But, as soon as one piece of jewelry is taken, everyone shouts 'Blaine Anderson the Warbler.'" Blaine muttered bitterly.

Finn felt embarrassed that he was just as quick to judge Blaine as many others were. He removed a pale green paper from his pocket and wordlessly handed it to Blaine. Blaine took it gingerly. He scanned the list. Most of the people on it were of advanced age and most likely, unwilling to be interesting in receiving help from someone of Blaine's age. As he was about to give up, one name caught his attention.

"Who is this Miss…Berry?" Blaine inquired. Finn gave a small smile before answering.

"Her name is Rachel. She's this girl around our age. She's a former Broadway and movie star. Can you believe that? She's currently 'taking a break' from all of that and is visiting here for a couple of months. She's really nice and enthusiastic about everything. She may act like she doesn't care about money but, trust me, she's absolutely loaded and most of her money is spent on her jewelry," Finn finished in one breath. Blaine could easily tell Finn was already in love with this girl. It was going to be very awkward watching Finn interact with her. Nevertheless, this Rachel was his best bet at catching the new 'Warbler.'

"This Rachel, does she travel alone?" Blaine wondered aloud. Finn quickly answered for him.

"No, no. She travels everywhere with her best friend. A man named Kurt Hummel. Apparently he had a lot of success as a star as well. Except, Kurt doesn't show off his wealth nearly as much as Rachel does. They're really close though, like, joined at the hip." Blaine hummed in response. He cautiously asked the next question.

"So are these two…together?" Finn snorted.

"Oh god no. Mr. Hummel might be modest when it comes to money and jewels, but he dresses far too impeccably to be straight." Blaine quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, now I'm definitely interested in meeting these two. When can I see them?" Finn looked questioningly at Blaine's sudden eagerness before his eyes widened in understanding. He thought for a moment before clapping his hands together.

"I just remembered, I'm meeting both of them for dinner tonight at the Vertaine. Six p.m. I think. Do you want to join us?" Blaine smiled but shook his head no.

"I'd rather not join you for dinner; they can't exactly know who I am. But, I will see you tonight. Just don't search for me." They both stood up from the table and headed toward the front door.

"Thank you for helping me out Finn. I can't tell you how much this means to me. I'll see you tonight I suppose," Blaine said.

"Yeah, I guess so. And, don't mention it Blaine. Let's nab this guy okay?" Finn then left, closing the door behind him with a click. Blaine headed into the dining room where Santana was cleaning up.

"Hey Santana, where did you put my nicer suits? I'm going to need them for a couple of days."

Santana beamed at Blaine's excitement. Happy wasn't a word Santana would have used to describe him lately. These past few days had brightened his demeanor considerably and she had never been more grateful.

"I moved them into storage years ago, I'll go get them. Got to have you looking as dapper as possible right? Oh and Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm doing your hair for tonight."

* * *

**Hello readers! Sorry this update took a while. School's been crazy and prom just happened and I had NO TIME to update. So thanks for bearing with me. This is the last of my pre-written chapters so now the updates are going to take longer. Plus I have about two weeks left of school and with finals and APs I don't know how much time I'll be able to write but then it will be summer!**** Anyhoo... Next up we meet Miss Berry and Mr. Hummel! I'm excited for them to meet Blaine. So that's it for now! Thanks for reading as always. Best Wishes, Vintage Vagabond.  
**

**P.S. Kudos to anyone who picked up on the 10 Things I Hate About You Reference  
**

**P.P.S. I don't own Glee, Blaine, Kurt, Santana etc. I also don't own any of To Catch A Thief (I remembered the disclaimer! :D)  
**


	5. Chapter 4

The grand dining room at the Vertaine was filled to capacity. The ornate chandeliers illuminated the room with a soft glow, greatly accentuating the dark cherry tables and moss green tablecloths. Waiters dashed from the kitchen to their respected tables, bringing wine, meals, and very expensive checks. Finn glanced up from his dish to scope the room. Catching no sight of Blaine, he wrung his hands together nervously. He brought his attention back to the tiny brunette who was chatting adamantly about…something. Crap. Finn couldn't remember what she had been talking about. In his defense, she talked so much and switched subjects to fast it was hard for him to know what Rachel Berry, Broadway star, was even talking about. Not that Finn minded. He mostly enjoyed just watching her talk. She always looked radiant, but tonight she was a spectacle to behold. Her dark brown hair was pulled to the side and fell into loose curls over one shoulder. Her simple black dress hung on her frame beautifully, echoing the grace and poise of old Hollywood stars such as Audrey Hepburn or Rita Hayworth. Her eyes sparkled with an intensity that evenly matched the glimmer of the diamond pendant that lay across her collarbone. It was this pendant that held Finn's focus at the moment, even if Rachel kept trying to move the focus on her.

"And then, all of a sudden the director grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me right in the eyes and said," Rachel paused dramatically, "'Berry, you've got to go out there. There's no one else who knows the part of Elphaba quite like you.' I just nodded, speechless at this amazing opportunity. I went out there on that stage and the rest is history. And that's how, through an unfortunate blight of food poisoning, I made my debut as Elphaba at the Gershwin!" Rachel finished with a dazzling smile. Her brows then quickly furrowed in concentration.

"Oh, but Mr. Hudson, you were saying something earlier weren't you? Before we got on the topic of my Broadway success, of course." Finn cleared his throat.

"Um yeah, Miss Berry. I was saying how I think you should consider placing that pendant and the rest of your jewelry in the safe in the hotel lobby. With this Warbler guy around, I know I would feel a lot better if you kept your gems in a safer place than just your hotel room." Rachel waved her hand in dismissal.

"Nonsense, Mr. Hudson. I bought these jewels so I could wear them! Not to lock them away. What's the point of buying these pieces of jewelry if I can't wear them and be complemented on them?" Rachel asked.

"Because the world would simply collapse if Rachel Berry wasn't adored by somebody at every moment of everyday right?" a voice quipped from the end of the table, snapping both Finn and Rachel out of their debate. They turned their heads to observe a very bored Kurt Hummel leaning back into his chair and nonchalantly examining his nails. He then spoke again, his eyes not leaving his cuticles.

"Honestly Rachel, you should consider it. The only thing worse than your jewels being stolen, would be to hear you complain about it for the rest of our trip here. Which, if you haven't forgotten, is another month." Rachel let out a huff and crossed her arms, mimicking the actions of a small child.

"You don't have to say it so candidly Kurt. I'm merely stating that jewels are meant to be worn. Besides, I think this whole Warbler business is fascinating! A real jewel thief in the Riviera," she giggled. "I for one appreciate the dramatic flair of these thefts." Finn's jaw dropped at her statement. This girl was begging to be robbed. He supposed it was fortunate that Blaine chose her among his clients. Finn would not have been surprised if Rachel hung her jewelry out the window like clothes on a clothesline at night. Finn despairingly placed his head in his hands. Blaine needed to get here. Now.

"And I'm merely stating that if you were a considerate human being, you could save Mr. Hudson from the trouble of paying millions in insurance by giving him your gems for safekeeping," Kurt replied, his voice staying in the same calm tone. Rachel's tone was quite the opposite.

"Kurt, I'm not giving my jewels to Mr. Hudson. God, I don't even know why I travel with you anymore," she said angrily. Kurt was quick to reply.

"Because you want to have at least one person who adores you for your personality and not just your riches? I'm pretty sure no one loves or understands your personality more than me Rach." Kurt then looked up, his blue eyes dancing playfully. Rachel's hard gaze instantly softened and she gave him a friendly shove. She then surveyed the dining room, which was now practically empty except for one individual in an impeccable suit. Her brown eyes widened at sight of the man and she grabbed the sleeve of Kurt's jacket.

"Kurt!" she stage-whispered, "Kurt! There is an incredibly handsome man about to leave the dining room."

"Great Rachel, go make your move. I'll be right here when you get back…" Kurt said dryly.

"No Kurt, for you! I mean, we have all this money and let's face it, we're fabulous individuals. Why shouldn't we take advantage of it?" Rachel asked.

"Because I'm not exactly keen on buying love Rachel," Kurt answered. Rachel tsked disapprovingly before smiling again, her eyes bright.

"It's a shame Kurt because I would _love_ to buy that for you!" she said playfully. Kurt's eyes widened in alarm at Rachel's loud tone of voice. He didn't dare look at the stranger to see if he had heard.

"Rachel!" he hissed, "Not so loud! We don't even know if he's gay!" Rachel scoffed at Kurt's obvious distress.

"Of course he's gay Kurt, just look at him!" she said far too loudly in Kurt's opinion. Reluctantly, Kurt snuck another glance at the stranger who was now seated by the hotel bar, drink in hand. Kurt looked back to Rachel.

"How do you know he's gay? It's not like he's wearing a rainbow sash or anything." Rachel just rolled her eyes.

"Kurt, you know how being raised by my dads has finely tuned my observation skills when it comes to identifying gay men. Besides, it's painfully obvious. Don't you think it's obvious Mr. Hudson?"

Finn, suddenly thrown into the debate, found himself stuttering as he tried to convince his dinner companions that he had no idea who that man was. An action that was proving to be extremely difficult when he kept looking at Blaine, wondering what was going through his head.

"Oh erm…well…I don't know if it's painfully obvious…but I guess it's possible?" he finished lamely, not exactly wanting to gossip about Blaine's sexuality. An issue that had Rachel giddy at the prospect of being able to play matchmaker. Kurt, noticing a scheming glint in her eye, quickly stood up and began to usher Rachel out of the room.

"Okay Rachel! I'm sure you're right. Hey, why don't we head out to that piano bar next door? You just said yesterday that you've been dying to find a place to perform! C'mon lets go before the place closes," Kurt babbled on, pulling Rachel by the arm out of the room and out of the hotel. Rachel, completely distracted by the thought of singing, happily agreed.

"That sounds like so much fun Kurt! Are you coming with us Mr. Hudson?" Finn stood at the entrance of the Vertaine, anxiously looking back toward the dining room. He sighed and looked at the two of them.

"Uh, sure I guess… and Miss Berry. It's totally cool for you to call me Finn… if you want…" He gave her a small smile, which was reciprocated just as shyly. Kurt cleared his throat to gain their attention.

"Are we going to go sing or not?" he said impatiently, tapping his foot against the concrete.

"Of course! C'mon let's go in!" Rachel squealed as she led them both inside.

XXX

Located next to the Vertaine, Beethoven's Fifth was the kind of place that belonged in the back streets of New York, not the Riviera, and Kurt loved it. The bar was nicely furnished with clean tables and high stools. It had a vintage vibe which Kurt attributed to the crooning voice of Sinatra playing softly through the bar, and the old photographs of Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert and, of course, Marilyn Monroe. Kurt took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of wood polisher and cigarettes. Perfect. As much as Kurt enjoyed traveling, he always found himself wishing for the bustling streets of New York; a place where something was always happening and days consisted of more than sunbathing or eating fancy dinners. If he had wanted boring, he would have stayed in Ohio.

Kurt turned to his companions. Finn looked…slightly uncomfortable and out of place in his stuffy black tuxedo. Kurt looked down at his own outfit: a crisp white shirt under a blue velvet blazer matched with skinny black pants and his favorite white half boots. Okay, so maybe he was a little out of place too but, at least his clothes leaned toward too stylish instead of too awkward.

Rachel, of course, fit right in with her short but stunning black dress that Kurt himself picked out. He glanced at her as she talked to the manager, asking him when customers could start singing. The man looked overwhelmed as he tried to answer the tiny spitfire. Kurt smiled fondly at his best friend; the only person Kurt trusted with everything. Well, her and his dad of course. But, as much as Kurt loved his father, he wasn't there to take New York by storm like Rachel was. They had been there for each other through everything: high school, college, callbacks, heartbreak, second jobs, third jobs…just everything. And as…abrasive as Rachel could be, she was always there with bandages, ice cream, and great advice. The cure for any problem as far as Kurt was concerned. She was practically his sister and he spent most of his time looking after her. More time than he spent on himself anyway. The reason he remained single he guessed. Rachel returned to where he and Finn were seated, an obvious pout visible on her face despite the dim lighting in the bar.

"I asked the manager if I could start the night performances but he told me that someone already booked the first slot! The man wouldn't even budge when I happened to mention I'm a Broadway star… All I can say is, this person better be phenomenal." Rachel crossed her arms and took a seat on the stool next to Kurt. He silently handed Rachel a martini which she gladly accepted. However, it wasn't enough to keep her from complaining. She prattled on about how much she had wanted to perform tonight. Kurt effectively tuned her out, a talent he perfected the second year of knowing her. Finn, Kurt noticed, was captivated by Rachel's antics. His eyes followed her hands but mostly remained on her animated face. Finn's face was permanently fixed in a state of awe, admiring every syllable of every word she spoke. Rachel was oblivious to Finn's adoring gazes, just like she was oblivious to most of the men who admired her. Well, the men who were decent and not overly-dapper con-men. Those men Rachel noticed and liked right away, much to Kurt's chagrin. But hey, a lot could happen in a month. Maybe Finn could win her over. He might be all kinds of awkward but Kurt liked him. He seemed very down to earth and could probably bring Rachel down from the clouds. Lord knows Kurt had tried long enough.

The small tap of a microphone echoed through the bar, bringing Kurt out of his thoughts. He turned toward the piano to see who beat out Rachel for the opening spot. Kurt's mouth opened in shock as he gazed at the stranger from the hotel. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled to his elbows and his thin black tie hung loosely from his neck. Kurt heard Rachel gasp and he felt her hand hit his arm repeatedly.

"Yeah Rachel, I know I know. He's that guy."

"Ohmigosh Kurt just look at him!"

Kurt was. The man's fingers danced across the keys, playing small notes as he warmed up. His eyes were closed, and his long dark lashes kissed the tops of his cheekbones as he let his fingers blindly lead him through the melody. He opened his hazel green eyes, looking around the venue before setting his eyes on Kurt. Kurt drew in a quick breath of air as he felt the stranger's gaze. Rachel was emitting small squeals which only grew louder when the man looked away from Kurt and gave a small smile toward the floor. He looked back at the audience, his eyes flickering at Kurt's table before speaking into the microphone.

"Testing…testing…great. Hello everyone. My name is Matthew Carlisle and I guess I'm going to start the night off with one of my favorites. Sing along if you know it. I'm sure I'm going to need the help," he finished with a chuckle. The man then took a deep breath and began playing a quiet tune that Kurt instantly recognized as "As Time Goes By." He played the intro effortlessly and then began to sing. His velvety voice filled the bar slowly and surely, turning the heads of anyone who wasn't paying attention before. He definitely didn't need any help singing. His voice never faltered when he switched verses and on more than one occasion, he looked over and smiled at the audience, obviously at home on the piano. Kurt noticed the tapping on his arm had finally stopped and he looked at Rachel, who was gazing at Mr. Carlisle in awe. Kurt snorted at Rachel's sudden lack of enmity toward the stranger. No doubt she was going to want to talk to him now. He certainly had all of the qualities she liked: handsome, talented, extremely debonair… Kurt was going to have to keep his eye on him. Kurt refocused his attention toward the singer, who had just finished the song. The audience clapped ardently, causing the man to bow his head in thanks.

"Thank you everyone. I guess it's safe for me to assume that if anyone else wants to have a go I don't think the manager will object," he said, standing up from the piano bench and walking off the small stage. Many people uttered words of disappointment at the length of his performance, wishing he would have played longer. Kurt found himself agreeing and leaned toward Rachel to discuss the stranger's rendition of the song.

"He certainly knows how to make an impression on a room huh?" he stated. When he received no response, he turned his head to look at Rachel only to notice that she wasn't there. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of her in the now very crowded bar. He finally spotted her making a beeline toward Mr. Carlisle. Panicked, Kurt left the table, almost falling off his stool in the process and maneuvered his way toward Rachel in hopes of catching her before she reached Mr. Carlisle. But, nothing stopped Rachel Berry from her goals and Kurt reached the two of them just as she was introducing herself.

"…Oh, and this is my best friend Kurt Hummel, also a wildly successful star like myself. He just finished a one year stint as Peter Allen in "The Boy from Oz," isn't that right Kurt?" Rachel asked; her excitement showing through each word.

"Sure is Rachel. Hey I'm really exhausted. Let's go back to the hotel and get some shut eye okay?" Kurt said through a cheerful disposition that was utterly fake. He hoped Rachel would see though his façade and get the message that he really didn't want to talk to this guy. If she did, she completely ignored it.

"Nonsense Kurt, you were the one who wanted to come here in the first place remember? But you know, I'm not really feeling a performance tonight. What about you Kurt? Why don't you sing something? I'm sure Mr. Carlisle would love to…"

"No," Kurt said stiffly. Rachel looked at him, silently scolding him before trying again.

"But I'm sure if you just went up there-"

"_No_," Kurt repeated, refusing to cooperate with Rachel's ridiculous plan to either: A) Set Kurt up with Mr. Carlisle or, more likely B) Get Kurt to leave so she could talk to Mr. Carlisle by herself. Kurt could already see the adoration in her eyes.

What followed was an intense staring match in which both of them conversed with each other through their facial expressions, each one trying to gain the upper hand without saying a word. After about a minute of this battle, Rachel threw her hands up in defeat. Kurt gave a small satisfied smirk before he and Rachel fixed their attention on a very confused and slightly uncomfortable Matthew Carlisle.

"I'm sorry about that Mr. Carlisle. I forgot that Kurt had not been feeling well earlier today." Rachel shot Kurt a glare which was reciprocated on Kurt's end before continuing.

"With his throat bothering him, it was unheard of for me to ask him to sing tonight," she finished, her lips pursed in irritation. She glanced at Kurt's smug grin before she gave him a small scheming smile of her own.

"But I'm sure he wouldn't object to you joining us for a few drinks at our table right?" Kurt's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object. But Rachel spoke on his behalf.

"Of course he wouldn't. Come on Mr. Carlisle, please join us!" The man in question let out a soft laugh at the feuding pair.

"Please Miss Berry, call me Matthew. And I'd love to join you guys if you don't mind. You two are easily the friendliest people I've met since I arrived here a couple of days ago. I hope I'm not imposing though. The last thing I want to be is a burden," Matthew finished worriedly. Rachel gave him a bright smile before answering.

"First off, if I get to call you Matthew than you should call me Rachel. Secondly, you are not imposing. We invited you to our table right Kurt?" Rachel shoved Kurt playfully with enough force to send him forward a few steps and consequently, into Matthew. Kurt stepped back, blushing furiously and he gave both of them a strained smile.

"No Matthew, you aren't imposing. C'mon, let's head to our table. I'm sure Finn's been wondering where we've been," Kurt said, leading the party toward the table. When they reached their seats, Finn stood up abruptly and held out his hand towards Matthew.

"Hello sir, I'm Finn Hudson. It's very nice to meet you." Finn said it as if he was reciting it off of a cue card. Matthew stared at him oddly, a hint of warning behind his eyes that Kurt noticed and filed away in his brain. Despite the odd stare, Matthew shook Finn's hand warmly and sat in the seat across from Kurt. Almost immediately, Rachel launched into one of her many theater stories. Kurt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long night.

XXX

Hours later, the group remained at the table, nursing drinks and engaging in small talk. Looking at the three faces around him, Blaine was convinced that neither Rachel nor Kurt knew who he really was. Not only that, he also had gained their trust instantly. Well, he gained Rachel's trust. He was still trying with Kurt. Blaine at once noticed the suspicious glance that Kurt shot his way when they first met. Finn wasn't kidding about these two. There was no way Blaine was getting between them. Kurt was as overprotective as a grizzly bear with its cubs, but in this case, the bear in question attacked with his wit. And not just toward Blaine. Kurt's biting comments were directed toward Finn as well which struck Blaine as odd. Finn was easily the least threatening individual Blaine knew. He couldn't understand as to why he would be under fire too. That is, until he saw Finn give Rachel a wistful stare when she hopped down from her stool and went to order another drink. Lord, Finn was _not_ being subtle with his crush on Rachel. It was pretty obvious to everyone. Everyone but Rachel. Blaine figured he would have to talk to Finn about turning down the heart eyes for a while. Having to deal with relationship drama would not be beneficial to him. But, even though Finn was into Rachel way more than Blaine was even pretending to be, it was Blaine that received the worst of Kurt's backlashes. And he couldn't understand why. He was being nothing but polite and kind to him and he was getting nothing but venom back. This was not supposed to be happening and it was definitely not part of the plan.

With Rachel trying to grab the bartender's attention, the other three tried to make small talk until Finn noticed Rachel's frustration at being lost in a sea of taller individuals and got up to help her.

"I'm gonna go and see if I can help her out." He walked toward her, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone. Both effectively ignored the other for about a minute before the silence became too stifling. Blaine spoke first in hopes of breaking through Kurt's tough exterior.

"So, umm Rachel was saying that you like to sing huh?" he asked tentatively. Kurt gave a thin smile before answering.

"I'm surprised you're picked up on anything she said about me. Rachel doesn't talk to people so much as she talks at people." Blaine snorted.

"Yeah, she definitely seems to enjoy conversation as long as the subject is her. Hey, I hope I'm not overstepping here by asking this but…How come you can talk to and about Rachel but the second anyone else tries to, you verbally slap them into next week? I promise I'm not a bad guy. I'm not trying to take advantage of her or anything like that, so I just don't understand how you can be so hostile-"

"Then what exactly are you doing Mr. Carlisle?" Kurt asked harshly, his sharp blue eyes shooting daggers in Blaine direction. Blaine flinched when Kurt spoke again, his voice laced with anger.

"Honestly, I'm confused about this entire situation. Here we are in beautiful France, enjoying our vacation, and a man who just happens to be from the USA but has never heard of either of us shows up. And before you say it, no, I'm not being conceited because Rachel has been a star on Broadway on and off for the last eight years and has starred in four movies while I just finished a six year career on Broadway alongside Rachel in many cases. Furthermore, this gentleman is incredibly handsome, sings like a freaking dream and is incredibly nice to boot? I'm sorry but I cannot believe that. You wonder why I'm like this? It's because as ambitious and smart as Rachel is, she's too caught up in seeing the good in people to truly see the snakes who only want her for her money. But I see them. And it's so.. so infuriating. And here you are Matthew, saying that you're not like that. That you're different. But you're not. I've seen that fake smile countless times and I'm not letting you do this to her. I've eaten enough gallons of Cherry Garcia and watched 500 Days of Summer enough times to last a lifetime okay? So do us all a favor and just leave us alone," Kurt finished, leaving Blaine stunned.

He looked at Kurt, finally understanding his behavior, his reluctance in letting anybody new into their tiny but airtight family. Blaine could understand Kurt's situation all too well. He himself trusted only three, well four individuals now counting Finn. But, strangely enough, he found himself wanting to trust Rachel and Kurt. He knew it was pointless, he was only going to be near them for a week tops. Nevertheless, he was drawn to the two of them. He only hoped he could get Kurt to let down his guard and understand that Blaine did not want to hurt Rachel.

"Listen Kurt, I-I know this whole situation seems very skeptical to you." Kurt began to interrupt but Blaine held his ground.

"But I promise. I _promise_ I'm not looking to be in a relationship with Rachel." Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine paused, noticing the eye-roll, and continued.

"Trust me Kurt, Rachel is not my type."

Kurt shot a reply back instantly.

"What is your type then Matthew? Richer? Dumber? Travels alone instead of with somebody to look after her?" That did it. Blaine had had enough and his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Actually no, Kurt. My type is slightly more muscular with a short hair cut and an Adam's apple," Blaine replied swiftly.

Kurt's eyes widened and his mouth opened, forming a small 'o.' He immediately blushed and looked down, thoroughly embarrassed and suddenly fascinated with his drink. God what was taking Rachel and Finn so long? Kurt glanced toward the bar and saw them still trying to get the bartender's attention. He figured with Finn's height they would have had more luck but apparently not. He looked up, took a deep breath, and began his apology.

"Mr. Carlisle, I think I may, no I know I owe you an apology for-" Kurt stopped when Blaine held up his hand.

"Kurt, it's okay. Don't worry about it. Let's just… pretend this entire conversation never happened save for this: I'm really glad I met you three tonight, and I hope I can by friends with all three of you and eventually gain _your_ trust. Okay?" Blaine asked. Kurt gave a small smile and nodded just as Rachel and Finn returned to the table looking defeated.

"I can't believe our luck. Finn finally grabs the bartender's attention and he tells us that the place is closing for the night!" Rachel complained. Kurt gave her a sympathetic pout and patted her shoulder as he hopped down from his seat. Blaine downed the rest of his old-fashioned and followed the trio toward the front door.

"Don't worry Rachel, I'm sure the place will be open tomorrow!" Finn said in an effort to cheer her up. Both Blaine and Kurt agreed. Rachel sighed heavily before noticing that Kurt had dropped his cold exterior and the two shorter men were chatting casually, almost in a friendly matter. She broke out into a huge grin before addressing the two.

"So… what did you two talk about when we were gone?" she inquired, obviously elated. Both of them looked to each other before simultaneously answering her.

"Broadway"

"Paris"

Rachel quirked an eyebrow as Kurt stumbled out another reply.

"I mean we were discussing my desire to leave Broadway for a while and live in Paris for a couple of years right?" The other man nodded fiercely. Rachel looked unconvinced but let it slide. The four made it out of the bar and into the lobby of the Vertaine.

"Well, I suppose we should call it a night. Finn, thank you so much for inviting us to dinner and Matthew, it was so nice to meet you. Oh! Would you like to join me and Kurt for breakfast tomorrow morning in our room? Maybe we could all go out for a drive as well! Oh please say you'll come!" Rachel pleaded.

"Of course Rachel," Blaine chuckled. "As long as it won't bother Mr. Hummel. I don't want to be a nuisance."

"It won't bother me Mr. Carlisle. You should join us tomorrow. Heaven knows Rachel and I both need to make more friends here than just each other and our insurer," Kurt replied with a laugh. Rachel clapped enthusiastically before chiming in.

"On that happy note, I think Kurt and I will retire to our rooms. See you tomorrow Matthew and thanks again Finn."

"Wait Rachel, It's only polite if I escort both of you to your room. I feel responsible for keeping you out so late," Blaine said.

"Thanks for the offer Matthew, I think we may have to take you up on that," Rachel said smiling before addressing Finn.

"Goodnight Finn, thank you again for your efforts in the bar. They certainly didn't go unappreciated!" Finn's eyes lit up and he gave Rachel a giant smile before saying goodbye to the trio, and heading off to his own room on the third floor.

XXX

The ride to Kurt and Rachel's floor was quiet but not too uncomfortable, with Rachel stealing glances at Blaine and Kurt glancing at Rachel to make sure she wouldn't try anything drastic. The elevator came to a halt with a ding on the ninth floor and the three made their way toward the room. They reached the hotel door and Rachel pulled out her key card.

"Thank you for dropping us off Mr. Carlisle, that was very chivalrous of you."

"Not a problem Rachel. Goodnight you two!" Rachel gave him a tiny wave before closing the door, leaving Kurt and Blaine in the hall. Blaine blinked in confusion before talking to Kurt.

"Kurt, did Rachel just lock you out?" he inquired, genuinely puzzled. Kurt looked at Blaine in amusement.

"No, she didn't. My room is next door. They are attached but I guess Rachel forgot about that. She seemed pretty out of it." Blaine chuckled to himself. They reached Kurt's door and Kurt pulled out a small key card from his wallet. He opened the door and turned around to face Blaine. Blaine cleared his throat a little before speaking.

"Well, goodnight Kurt. I guess I'll see you tom-" Blaine was silenced by Kurt's mouth on his. Blaine emitted a small sound of surprise as Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and twined his fingers into Blaine's curls, succeeding in putting more force into the kiss. Just as Blaine began to relax, Kurt pulled away. Placing one final kiss just below Blaine's right ear, Kurt stepped backwards into his room, his eyes never leaving Blaine's as he closed the door.

Blaine finally exhaled when the door shut and he continued to stare at Kurt's door. What the hell just happened? It's not that the kiss was unpleasant. God, was that far from the truth. No, it was more of the fact that Kurt pretty much hated him a mere ten minutes ago. Okay, so that obviously wasn't the case anymore. Blaine was glued to the floor, transfixed on Kurt's door, his mind whirling and effectively giving him a headache. Blaine shook his head in hopes of clearing it This was not something that he needed to worry about. He had a thief to catch. Finally moving from his spot, Blaine headed toward the elevator to go to his room. He had to work on the next phase of his plan; a plan that was now a lot more complicated due to the addition of an obstacle with captivating blue eyes and incredibly soft lips.

XXX

The following morning, Blaine stood outside Rachel's door waiting for her to answer. He let out a long exhale as he tried to calm his nerves. Did Kurt tell Rachel what happened last night? Blaine hoped not. Although he wasn't going to avoid Kurt or anything, he didn't want Rachel to completely ignore him either since she was the one with most of the gems. Plus, how was Kurt going to act around him now? Would he be more friendly or regret the whole thing? Ugh, when did this situation get so complicated? Oh yeah, when Kurt practically ate his face. Blaine didn't have a long time to worry because the door opened quickly and Rachel ushered him inside.

"Morning Rachel… and Finn too. What are you doing here this morning Finn?" Blaine questioned.

"Hi Mr. Carlisle, I don't know if you heard but, a woman staying at the hotel next door was robbed by the Warbler. I'm simply begging Miss Berry to let me keep her jewels safe but, of course, she continues to make my life miserable by disagreeing with me," Finn finished, his eyes narrowing in Rachel's direction. Rachel rolled her eyes as she poured coffee into a mug and handed it to Blaine who took it gratefully.

"I'm sorry Finn, but I'm not hiding my jewelry and that is final." A small knock on the side door momentarily snapped Finn and Rachel out of their argument.

"That must be Kurt. I wonder why he's not just walking in. It's not like I keep the side door locked," Rachel said. Blaine looked up from his coffee and observed Kurt peering warily into the room.

"Is it safe to come in Rachel? I heard you and Mr. Hudson arguing and I'm so finished with talking about the Warbler."

"Yeah Rachel and I are done talking about it. I honestly don't know why another robbery would have caused her to change her mind or anything," Finn said sullenly. Kurt gave Finn a sympathetic glance before spotting the coffee. He quickly poured himself a cup and stood next to Blaine.

"So how long have these two been at it?" Kurt asked him. Blaine gave him a small shrug.

"I've only been here a couple of minutes so I can't be sure but, it seems like they have been discussing this for a while," he whispered. Kurt smirked.

"Discussing is a kind term Matthew. Not sure if it fits the situation though. Of course, if I'm being honest, this whole Warbler business worries me," Kurt bit his lip before continuing. "I mean, it's not that I'm worried about Rachel's jewelry or anything. It's that the guy just creeps in even with locks on the windows and doors. It's scary to think that anyone could be next. Plus I'm known to wear the occasional diamond broach," Kurt finished.

"Yeah, this Warbler seems to be quite a match for the police here," Blaine said. The pair continued to watch Finn and Rachel quarrel for a few minutes before Kurt spoke up again.

"Hey, these two might by arguing all day. And as interesting as that may be, I'd much rather get out of this hotel room. Do you want to go for a swim with me on the beach today?" Kurt asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"That sounds great Kurt. Honestly, any place sounds better than here. When should we meet up?" Blaine asked

"Would an hour work for you? I need some time to get ready and I'm assuming you'll have to go and get your suit?" Kurt guessed. Blaine nodded.

"Yeah that works. See you in an hour then?"

"Mmhmm, see you then," Kurt answered with a smile. Blaine smiled back before leaving the room. He made it as far as ten feet before his mind was back to overworking itself.

He determined that the entire situation was insane. Not only did Kurt not mention the kiss at all, but he was basically the opposite of who he was yesterday, which was freaking Blaine out. There had to be an angle right? Kurt was anything but stupid and he was suspicious of Blaine from the start. There just had to be a reason as to why he was being so nice.

"Maybe he just likes me," Blaine thought for a second before quickly dismissing that idea. Even if he did, Blaine was leaving in a few days. There was no point in getting attached to Kurt or anyone for that matter.

He entered his room and found his swim trunks, thankful that Santana packed his nicer pair. He changed into his swim trunks, threw on a white tank top, and headed down to the hotel lobby to wait for Kurt. He didn't have to wait long. After a few moments, Kurt appeared at the top of the main staircase in short blue swim trunks that matched his eyes and a white t-shirt that accentuated his muscles perfectly. Blaine swallowed as he watched Kurt descend the staircase. This whole "not getting attached" thing was the worst idea Blaine had ever come up with. Kurt's look was completely casual and quite simple but Blaine thought he looked marvelous. Kurt saw Blaine and gave a small wave before walking up to him.

"Hey, ready to go?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded, bouncing on his feet in excitement. As they were leaving the hotel, a hand grasped Blaine's shoulder. Blaine turned to see an employee of the hotel.

"There's a message for you at the front desk Monsieur," the man stated before returning to his post.

"I'll be right back," Blaine said as he followed the man. Kurt simply smiled and promised to wait for him. Blaine made it to the front desk and accepted his message. He unfolded the sheet of paper and his eyes widened as he read the note.

**Blaine. Stop interfering with the new Warbler or the next song you whistle will be your last.**

* * *

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait on this... But the good news is that I no longer have the burden of classes! So I have more time to write! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I just love love love writing Rachel and Kurt. They are just too much fun. Again, thank you so much for reading this! I really appreciate it! Feel free to leave a review if you are so inclined :) So a lot happens in the next chapter so it maaay be a little while until I can update again. But it'll be worth it! :D**

**Best Wishes,**

**Vintage Vagabond  
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**(I do not own Glee, Blaine, Kurt, or anything else for that matter)  
**


	6. Chapter 5

Blaine paled as he re-read the contents of the note. He quickly glanced around the room to see if he could spot whoever left the message. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, just a few tourists entering and exiting the hotel and Kurt; who wore a puzzled expression that Blaine could see even from afar. Blaine disposed of the note and tried to focus on his plan for the day. After his swim with Kurt, Blaine was going to take the list he got from Finn, drive around the Riviera, and see which homes on the list were most likely to be hit next. Knowing the new Warbler's potential next move could lead Blaine one step closer to catching this guy. Blaine was sure of it. But, there was nothing that said he couldn't have an enjoyable morning before getting to work. Blaine tried to put his afternoon plans and the threat behind him as he approached Kurt.

"Hey, sorry about that. There was just a small issue concerning my room reservation. Ready to go?" Blaine asked cheerily, attempting to steer the conversation away from his unexpected and unwanted message. Kurt wasn't fooled.

"Yeah I'm ready. Are you sure that was all that was in the note? You seemed kind of upset when you read it," Kurt trailed off, worry etched in his face. Blaine smiled, touched by Kurt's concern.

"Yeah Kurt, that was all. I was worried that I was going to lose my room but the problem is solved. So, nothing to worry about. Okay?" Blaine squeezed Kurt's shoulder in assurance. Kurt, satisfied by Blaine's answer, nodded and the two headed out of the hotel.

The sun's rays beat down on the pair as they made their way to the already crowded beach. Blaine squinted at the crowd through his sunglasses, still shaken by the note and looking out for any potential threats. Seeing nobody that he recognized on the beach, he relaxed and approached Kurt, who had claimed a vacant spot in the sand and was vigorously applying sunscreen. Blaine sat down next to him and watched him with an amused expression. Kurt continued applying sunscreen until he noticed Blaine's gaze. He quirked an eyebrow.

"What?" Kurt questioned.

"Nothing Kurt, it's just…do you really need SPF 80? I'm pretty sure after 50 it's all the same," Blaine answered cheekily.

"Well, maybe most sunscreens, but definitely not mine. With skin as pale as mine Matthew, it pays to have a great sunscreen. I don't want to burn and without this stuff, I'll be as red as a beet. Not all of us are blessed with naturally tan skin like you," Kurt quipped.

"I guess I'll have to thank my parents next time I see them. Hey, speaking of family, I just realized that I know nothing about yours. Actually I know pretty much nothing about you either," Blaine said. Kurt grimaced.

"Yeah, I tend to lie in the shadow of Rachel most of the time. Not that I mind or anything. It's just a little…frustrating when you're only known as Rachel Berry's friend," Kurt sighed. Blaine paused, taking in Kurt's sorrowful expression before speaking.

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, Rachel isn't around so I must be here to spend time with you instead of pine after her. So, Kurt Hummel, tell me about you," Blaine said. Kurt gave him the broadest grin before answering.

"Umm let's see…sorry I'm not used to all the attention. Well, I guess that seems a little unbelievable coming from a Broadway star…but you know what I mean," Kurt chuckled before continuing.

"I grew up in Lima Ohio, the most boring place imaginable. It's a place that people rarely leave and for as long as I can remember, that's all I ever wanted to do: leave and just, do something with my life. And singing was always something that I loved so I thought: 'Why not make a career of it?'"

"So were you in a lot of plays at your school?" Blaine asked. Kurt snorted.

"Not exactly. I don't really fit the 'strong leading male type' so those roles went to guys with horrible fashion sense and a lower voice. Someone less… well less like me," Kurt said bitterly. Blaine thought a moment before asking the next question.

"So, I'm guessing high school wasn't the best experience for you huh?"

Kurt let out a humorless laugh, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"No, no it wasn't. I was tormented almost every day. Names, locker slams, you name it, it most likely happened to me. The bruises are gone and the scars have mainly faded, but emotionally, I don't know if I'll ever completely heal. If it wasn't for glee club, Rachel, and my dad, I-I don't know what would have happened," Kurt whispered.

Blaine gazed at Kurt, his heart breaking for this man he barely knew. Now, he saw Kurt without all of his walls, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to let Kurt know he wasn't going to hurt him, wasn't going to add to the pain that Kurt had already suffered through. He wanted to tell Kurt everything about himself: his hopes, his dreams, his worst fears…but he couldn't. God, Kurt couldn't even know Blaine's real name. Wanting to say so much, but not being able to say anything at all, Blaine took Kurt's hand and squeezed it, trying to convey all of his words into one gesture. Kurt looked up from wiping his eyes and gave Blaine the ghost of a smile. Blaine smiled back and tried to switch to a lighter topic.

"From what I just heard, you must be close with your dad," Blaine said. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I am. I came out to him when I was sixteen and the first words out of his mouth were, 'I know.' I mean, I guess it wasn't too surprising for him, given my collection of knee length sweaters but still, it was so nice to have someone say that they were proud of me, no matter who I ended up loving. He has always supported me, even when I decided I wanted to go to New York to pursue Broadway. He's the best dad I could have ever asked for," Kurt said, considerably happier after talking about his dad. Blaine definitely preferred making Kurt smile instead of making him cry.

"And what about your mom? I bet she's really proud of you too. Who wouldn't be with all your success?" Blaine remarked. Kurt's face immediately fell. Blaine swore internally. Was his mother not supportive at all? Oh god, what if there was a bitter divorce and Kurt was caught in the middle of everything. Blaine frantically tried to backtrack.

"I'm sorry. I'm intruding and completely overstepping my boundaries," he babbled.

"Matthew, MATTHEW! It's okay," Kurt said reassuringly. "My mom died when I was eight, so I have no way of knowing if she's proud of me or not. But, I'd like to think that she would be. She was always the one who indulged in my tea parties and my obsession with Disney princess movies. According to my dad, she didn't even bat an eye when I said I wanted to be like Ariel so I could have a handsome prince like Eric," Kurt laughed. "So I'm sure she always knew too, even when I was little. So I feel like we've been talking about me for too long. What about you Matthew? I want you to tell me what it was like growing up in the Carlisle home."

Blaine gulped. Talking about himself was something he had to do carefully. One slip up and that could be it. Alright, he could do this. He didn't have to lie about his childhood as long as he didn't say any names.

"Well, I grew up in Ohio too if you can believe that. Not Lima, but Westerville. I went to Dalton Academy and was actually a member of the glee club there," Blaine said.

"Really? You went to Dalton? I almost went there, but the tuition was a little steep. I guess your parents wanted you to have the best education possible," Kurt assumed. Blaine scratched the back of his neck.

"Actually it was their zero-tolerance bullying policy that caught our attention. Public high school was pretty much hell for me too. I came out to my friends when I was a freshman, so at fourteen. Some of my friends were okay with it, but so many more people weren't. And since I'm not exactly the biggest person, it wasn't just the jocks who wailed on me," Blaine muttered.

"I'm so sorry Matthew. Are-are your parents supportive of you?" Kurt asked tentatively, afraid to ask the wrong question.

"Yeah, they are. It took them a little while at first. I-I mean it's not what any parent expects, but when it got so bad that I actually ended up in a coma for two weeks after being attacked at a dance, my parents wanted nothing more than for me to be safe. I mean yeah, once in a while I know my dad sometimes wishes I was straight, but they still love me and that's all I could really ask for," Blaine replied, willing himself not to remember the pain and humiliation of the Sadie Hawkins dance. He always told his parents he wanted to leave Westerville for stardom, which was true, but he also moved so he could stop looking over his shoulder. To be fair, he still looked over his shoulder, but it was because of the police instead of football players. He looked at Kurt, who he could see was holding back tears. Again. Geez, he needed to stop making Kurt cry.

"Hey, no more tears okay? I hate that I've turned this nice morning into a sob session. I really don't like making you upset, which is the only thing I'm capable of doing apparently," Blaine said.

"No, no Matthew, it's not your fault. I'm really just too emotional for my own good. Just one of my charming traits. Okay, let's change the subject," Kurt insisted. Blaine smiled, eager to change to a happier topic. They talked about their glee clubs, about Broadway, and anything else they could think of, delighted that they had so much in common. Blaine found himself relaxing. With Kurt, he could be himself. Well, almost himself. An hour passed before they reached the part of the conversation Blaine had been dreading.

"So Matthew, what exactly do you do for a living?" Kurt inquired.

_Oh you know, scale buildings, hide from the police, the usual. _

"I grow and sell coffee beans," Blaine answered.

"Really? That's surprising, you don't act like someone who would do that," Kurt said.

_That's because my real money lies in the hundreds of jewels I stole years ago. _

"Yeah, that's what people always tell me," Blaine laughed nervously. Kurt cocked his head quizzically at Blaine's behavior.

"And um, where do you grow most of your coffee?" Kurt pried. Okay, Kurt needed to stop asking so many questions.

"California mainly," Blaine lied. "I'm here for a long overdue vacation. In fact, I love it so much here, I'm planning on driving around and looking at some villas this afternoon. I think I'd like to live here once I tire of growing coffee."

"Really? That sounds like a lot of fun. Would you like some company? I know I'd hate to go house-hunting alone," Kurt said, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

"Umm, no that's alright Kurt. I'd rather just go alone if that's okay," Blaine said. Kurt pouted for a minute before his mouth turned up in a smile.

"I guess it's okay. I'll see what Rachel's up to this afternoon."

"Great! Hey, I'm going to grab a pretzel or something. You want anything?" Blaine asked. Kurt shook his head no. Blaine stood up and headed to the snack bar.

While waiting in line, Blaine thought back on his conversation with Kurt. He escaped the prying part fairly unscathed and the other parts were wonderful. Even after only talking to him for a couple of hours, Kurt was one of the kindest people Blaine had ever met. It astonished him how much passion and ambition a single person could have after going through so much. He was stronger than Blaine, that was certain. He didn't give up on his dreams like Blaine had. Blaine sighed. If it were under different circumstances, there was no way Blaine would let someone like Kurt get away. But, Kurt could never be with him, nor would he want to be when he found out who Blaine really was. It was a win-lose situation. He could clear his name, but have to lose Kurt. And as awful as it was going to be to say goodbye to him, and Rachel too, it would be better than them visiting Blaine in prison. He had to continue with this facade no matter how much it sucked.

"God Kurt, why are you making this so hard?" Blaine groaned.

"That's what he said," a voice behind him jested. Blaine groaned louder and turned swiftly on his heel.

"Why are you here? Why? Please tell me," Blaine pleaded. Sebastian just smiled.

"Easy tiger, no need to get overly excited about seeing me. I'm actually here to discuss work. Annd if we have some time afterwards, I'm sure we could make great use of the bathhouse," Sebastian suggested, his eyes smoldering. Blaine scoffed.

"First off: Ew. Secondly, I'm kind of here with someone Sebastian. I don't think going with you would leave the best impression," Blaine said.

"Yeah I noticed that. She's lovely, by the way. Anyhoo, whenever you're ready to talk business you can just fly over to that ocean platform over there okay?" Sebastian winked and sauntered away. Blaine waited a few seconds before casually following him. As much as Sebastian was begging Blaine to give him a broken nose, he was one of the few who was willing to help him. And as far as Blaine was concerned, any new information was something Blaine could use. When he reached the platform, Blaine opted to stay in the water instead of joining Sebastian who was lounging lazily in the sun.

"Are you not coming up to join me Blaine? It's not nearly as much fun getting to see you if you just stay in the water," Sebastian pouted.

"Yep Seb, I'm staying down here. Now what's this news you-"

"What do you see in that guy anyway? It can't be his pale skin, his mousey brown hair, or even his face," Sebastian said. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Actually Seb, the main thing I like about Kurt is his maturity. He's kind, and actually interested in me as a person, and not just someone to hook up with. He's more of a man than you certainly are," Blaine said.

"Oh please Blaine, the only reason you're spending time with this guy is because he's rich. But see, what I don't understand is why you would want to buy a pair of expensive designer jeans that are stiff, tacky, and a bit pretentious, when you can just go back to your old jeans which are comfortable and easy to slip into," Sebastian said suggestively.

"Oh god Sebastian, just stop talking," Blaine begged. Sebastian dropped his smile and sighed.

"You know Anderson, you are just no fun anymore. Fine, I suppose we can talk business. First off, congrats on the heist you pulled last night. Your best yet in my opinion," Sebastian smirked.

"I didn't do it," Blaine snapped.

"Yeah okay. So basically I'm here to tell you don't come back to Schuester's for a while. The Resistance is getting quite antsy with the new thefts and a couple of them have been questioned by the police. And you know how much we hate the police," Sebastian stated.

"Well, it didn't stop them from telling the police where I would be yesterday at Bellfontaine Square," Blaine accused.

"No one said anything about that. None of us knew where you were going to be in the first place. And besides, if they did know, they would have done more than just call the police," Sebastian said.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked.

"The Resistance is furious with you. And if you don't want to end up dead I'd stay away," Sebastian warned. Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise

"Dead? They want to murder me?" he asked.

"Yep. That or drive you to suicide. I don't think they care how they get from point A to point B just as long as point B is you dead. But don't worry, you have a couple of people still in your corner: Schue, me and even Jesse," Sebastian said.

"Jesse? Really? I'm surprised he isn't leading the charge against me," Blaine muttered.

"If he is, he's doing a great job of hiding it from me and Schue," Sebastian replied.

"Well that's all the news I have to report for now, so I guess I'll let you go back to…oh looks like your friend has left. What a shame," Sebastian said in mock sympathy. Blaine looked to where Kurt had been only to see an empty spot. Blaine frowned.

"Yeah I guess he did leave," Blaine mumbled.

"No I didn't. I just got tired of watching you have all the fun!" a voice behind them said cheerily. Sebastian's eyes narrowed as he watched Blaine light up at the sound of Kurt's voice.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed happily. "I'm surprised you swam out here."

Kurt shrugged.

"Well you two seemed to be having a great time so I wanted to join you. And, who is this you're talking to Matthew?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, this is Sebastian Smythe who I just met a few minutes ago," Blaine said a little too loudly. He looked at Sebastian, praying that he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he did.

"Umm yeah, just a few minutes ago," Sebastian confirmed. Kurt's eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"Really? And you two talk like old friends. Ah well, that's warm, friendly France for you," Kurt declared. He swam a little closer to Blaine and put a hand on his shoulder. He smiled at Sebastian, an unspoken challenge starting between them. Sebastian's eyes glinted dangerously. Blaine cleared his throat to try to break the tension.

"Yeah, I was just saying how everyone in France is so nice. Sebastian, didn't you tell me there was something you wanted to say to Kurt if you met him?" Blaine hinted, silently asking Sebastian to back off. Sebastian eyed the two of them before answering.

"He looks a lot more feminine up close," he said bluntly. Blaine's eyes widened in alarm. To his surprise, Kurt just laughed.

"To a mediocre individual like yourself, any form of beauty would be overwhelming," Kurt said sweetly.

"Mediocre? Really? Would you like to discuss this in shallower water?" Sebastian proposed. Blaine cut in before Kurt replied in order to avoid disaster.

"So, it was really nice meeting you Sebastian. Maybe, we'll run into each other again sometime. Hey Kurt, I'm kind of exhausted from swimming. Let's go back okay?" Blaine said, pulling Kurt along with him toward the shore.

"But wait Matthew, we never finished our conversation about how French men are so much more fascinating than American men and how French is easily the most romantic language," Sebastian called out. Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt beat him to it.

"Well, I can't speak for myself because that would be extremely pretentious, but looking at you and then looking at Matthew, it's easy to see that America wins," Kurt shot back.

Blaine swam faster than he knew he was capable of in order to get Kurt and Sebastian out of each other's ear shots. When they reached the shore, Blaine collapsed onto the sand, fully exhausted. He lay there for a couple of minutes, convinced his muscles had given up on him until Kurt helped him sit up.

"Hey, sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I'm just not terribly fond of rude individuals who can't seem to shut up," Kurt stated.

"It's okay Kurt, he was kind of an ass," Blaine agreed. Kurt let out a breath in relief.

"Oh good. I was worried my behavior had repulsed you. And I really don't want you to think I'm an awful person," Kurt admitted.

"No Kurt, I don't think you're awful, and other than that unpleasant encounter, I had a really great time this morning. Maybe I'll join you and Rachel for dinner tonight if that's alright…" Blaine trailed off.

"Sure, that sounds great. I'll tell Rachel when I get back to the hotel. So I'll see you tonight?" Kurt questioned.

"Yes Kurt, I'll see you tonight," Blaine affirmed. He gave Kurt a small wave before heading to the bathhouses. After making sure Sebastian wasn't lurking in any of the stalls, Blaine changed into a pair of khakis and a maroon button down: the perfect outfit for casual espionage. Blaine dried off his hair and looked in the mirror to see the damage the salt water did. To his delight, his curls were actually cooperating. He left the bathhouse and made his way to the hotel entrance so he could call for a rental car. However, before he could reach the front desk, he was distracted by a light blue roadster that was supporting the weight of a very gorgeous Kurt Hummel.

Blaine wasn't sure how he accomplished it in the hour he was away, but Kurt looked like he took hours to get ready. Hell, it probably took Kurt half an hour to get into the pair of white jeans he was wearing. Kurt took the moment of Blaine's brain short-circuiting as his cue to speak.

"Hey Matthew, ready to go villa-shopping?" he asked.

"Well, I was actually just about to rent a car to do just that. Kurt, as much fun as it would be to have you come with me, I'd much rather go alone. It won't be very much fun. Just driving around and looking at old homes. I won't even get to look inside them," Blaine answered.

"Of course _that_ won't be fun. It'd be awful if I had to do that alone. What I'm going to propose would be a lot more fun," Kurt said coyly.

"Oh really?" Blaine said. "And what exactly is this plan of yours?" he inquired.

"Well, I thought I'd come with you to look at some of those homes and when we got hungry we could go to these picnic grounds I discovered a few days ago and eat the lunch that I've packed for us!" Kurt beamed. Blaine found his will slowly breaking as he stared at Kurt's enthusiastic and adorable face. He sighed.

"You don't hear the word 'no' a lot do you?" Blaine guessed as he got into the passenger seat.

"No, not really," Kurt chirped. He hopped into the driver's side and turned on the ignition. The car roared to life and Kurt quickly found a suitable radio station before turning to Blaine.

"So where is the first house located? If you give me the address, I can just plug it into my phone. That way we won't get lost," Kurt said. Blaine pulled out Finn's list and read the first address on the green slip of paper.

"352 Cerise Lane," Blaine read aloud. Finn had informed him that the owners were currently out of town but would return tomorrow, giving Blaine only today to scope out the exterior of the place and spot any flaws in the security. With Kurt coming along, Blaine would have to be more discrete in his investigating.

Kurt typed the address into his phone and then handed it to Blaine.

"Here, I'm going to need you to read aloud the directions for me. I get into panic mode whenever I see Rachel text and drive and I don't want to put you through the same thing alright?" Kurt said. Blaine laughed.

"I understand Kurt. These roads are pretty dangerous. Now c'mon, you wanted to come with me so let's get going!" Blaine urged.

"Okay, okay" Kurt laughed. He put the car into gear and they drove off, unaware of the car that began to follow them.

XXX

After half an hour of talking, reading GPS directions, and fighting over the radio, the pair reached the estate. Kurt's brows furrowed in confusion when they drove up to the gate.

"I don't see any "For Sale" signs… are you sure we're at the right place?" Kurt wondered aloud. Blaine was quick to reassure him.

"Yeah Kurt this is the place. Let's just drive up to the villa okay? We won't be able to go inside, but we can at least walk the grounds," Blaine said. Kurt still looked hesitant. He bit his lip worryingly before he finally relented.

"Alright, let's go," he said. They drove up to the villa and got out of the roadster. Kurt let out a low whistle when he looked at the home.

"Wow Matthew, this place is… how much money is _in_ the coffee business?" Kurt wondered aloud. Blaine laughed.

"A lot more than you would think. Shall we?" Blaine inquired, offering Kurt his arm. Kurt was quick to accept it, and the two began to walk toward the house.

"And besides Kurt, it's not like you couldn't afford this place either," Blaine teased. Kurt shook his head.

"No, places like this are for royalty, I'm just a simple person with a bank account." Kurt said bluntly.

"I don't think Rachel would agree with you on that," Blaine pointed out.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not Rachel then isn't it?" Kurt said. Blaine chuckled.

"Yes it is…So you really can't see yourself living in a place like this?" Blaine questioned. Kurt shrugged.

"Maybe, but I'd have to find someone to live with me first. There's no way I would be able to live in a huge house by myself. It would be terribly lonely," Kurt said.

"Well, I'm sure Rachel wouldn't mind staying here," Blaine suggested. Kurt shook his head in reply.

" Matthew, you know what I mean," he said. Blaine gave him a nod.

"I do. But I'm sure any man would jump at the chance to be here with you in a house like this," Blaine stated. Kurt sighed.

"Yeah well, the man I want doesn't have a price," he said.

"Well, that rules me out," Blaine said airily. Kurt smiled faintly and looked away, a dozen questions sitting on the tip of his tongue.

The two walked in silence for a while. Blaine glanced at the walls of the house, instantly noticing the flaws in the security cameras and the multiple windows that were easily accessible for someone like Blaine and subsequently the new Warbler. This was definitely a possible target. Blaine would have to keep an eye out here when the owners returned.

"What are you looking at?" Kurt asked, snapping Blaine out of his thoughts.

"Umm just the architecture. It's really cool isn't it?" Blaine stated "C'mon, let's go walk through the gardens."

The two made it to the gardens and let out a gasp as they stared at the breathtaking view of the ocean. Minutes passed before either of them were willing to move. They began to walk away and slowly made their way toward the house again.

"So Matthew," Kurt began. "I've been waiting all day for you to mention that kiss I gave you last night," he said shyly.

"Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to mention it or not," Blaine answered, not sure if that was what Kurt wanted to hear.

"To be honest, I wasn't sure either, but I guess there's no avoiding it now," Kurt said. Blaine let out a long exhale to calm his nerves.

"No, I guess not. So. Kurt. Why _did_ you kiss me last night?" Blaine questioned. Kurt stopped walking and turned to face him. Blaine did the same, waiting for his answer.

"Because I wanted to see if you were a good kisser," Kurt replied simply, his eyes sparkling.

"Really? That's it?" Blaine asked skeptically. Kurt smiled playfully.

"Well, like I said last night, you seemed too good to be true, so I had to make sure you were a good kisser. If you weren't, that would have ruined the whole thing," he answered.

"And?" Blaine prompted, "What is your conclusion on the matter of my kissing?"

Kurt pretended to think deeply before answering.

"That, Mr. Carlisle, is something I'd rather not say just yet," he finally answered before walking away, looking over his shoulder to see if Blaine was following him; which of course he was.

"Hey, c'mon now. The kiss, inviting me for breakfast, a morning swim…what do you expect to get out of being so nice to me?" Blaine wondered. Kurt looked at Blaine through his lashes, a smile playing on his lips.

"Probably a lot more than you're willing to offer," Kurt hinted before picking up his pace, leaving Blaine stunned for the second time in less than 24 hours. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his brain of all his non-work related thoughts: all of which involved a pair of enticing blue eyes.

"Well Kurt Hummel, you are certainly one in a million," Blaine declared.

"That's a routine compliment but I'll accept it," Kurt teased. Blaine laughed.

"Ready to go to the next place?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded. As the pair made their way toward the car, Blaine noticed a lone figure wandering the grounds. As the man began to walk closer, Blaine recognized him as Mr. Schuester. Blaine squinted his eyes in confusion. What was Schue doing here? Did he know Blaine was out scouting homes? Blaine and Schue briefly made eye-contact as Will passed him without saying a word. Blaine kept a cool exterior so he wouldn't cause Kurt to be suspicious of anything. They finally reached the roadster and left the estate.

"You know what? I'm starving. Where's that lunch you packed us…ah here it is." Blaine reached for the basket in the back seat but recoiled when Kurt slapped his wrist.

"Nuh-uh," Kurt scolded. "Not until we reach the picnic grounds."

"Well, how long until we reach them?" Blaine whined. He crossed his arms and stared sullenly at the passing scenery. Kurt giggled when he noticed how Rachel-like his passenger was being at the moment.

"It's only a couple of miles away," Kurt promised.

Blaine continued looking at the scenery for the next mile until he spotted a green vehicle following them in the side mirror. Come to think of it, that car had been following them all day. Blaine swore under his breath. How come he hadn't noticed this before? He had to find a way to lose them. A way without letting Kurt know what was going on.

"You said this place is only a few miles away?" Blaine asked.

"Mmhmm," Kurt confirmed, his eyes not leaving the road.

"Well then, why are we dawdling?" Blaine hinted.

"I was thinking exactly the same thing," Kurt said, pressing on the acceleration of the car.

As the car picked up speed, Blaine watched the green car through the rear-view mirror. It had also sped up and was pursuing them ardently. Blaine looked at Kurt to see if he noticed the other vehicle. He could have sworn he saw Kurt smirk as he glanced in the mirror and sped up even more. Blaine nervously clutched his knees as Kurt sped around tight turns. Kurt was _really _fond of driving fast on these roads. Blaine looked in the mirror to see how the other car was faring with the winding roads. Unfortunately, they were still behind them. Blaine even managed to recognize the men in the vehicle: Foussard and Cotierre. Of course they would be after him after the robbery last night.

Blaine glanced at Kurt again and was surprised to see a look of glee on his face as he turned the wheel hard to maneuver around yet _another_ tight turn. Blaine's stomach lurched and he looked out the side of the car instead of looking at the roads. Upon realizing they were driving along a cliff's edge with no railing, Blaine turned green. He sunk back into the seat and closed his eyes, forcing himself not to look anywhere else but the inside of his eyelids.

When he felt the car shift less, Blaine opened his eyes to see Kurt quickly swerve around an oncoming car. Blaine let out a yelp just as a laugh bubbled out of Kurt. Kurt made another turn and they entered a small village. They sped past the homes and people until Blaine saw the thing that would inevitably kill them: a woman in the road picking up some laundry she had dropped. Kurt's eyes widened in panic and he slammed on the breaks. They quickly came to a halt, sending both of them forward in their seats. The woman quickly got out of the way and the two of them sat there and tried to calm themselves down. A couple of moments passed before Kurt put the car into gear again and sped off. Blaine glanced behind him to see the other car stopped behind the same woman who had went back to collect her clothing. Kurt seemed to have shaken off the near-death experience and was back to driving like a mad-man, much to Blaine's terror. He briefly saw the green car in hot pursuit as Kurt rounded a corner, narrowly avoiding a goose in the process. A few seconds passed and Blaine heard a faint crash. He let out a breath of relief. It seemed as though the detectives had not skillfully avoided the goose. He watched the road behind him for a few seconds and when he saw no car he quickly acted to stop Kurt from driving so dangerously.

"Hey Kurt, slow down!" he shouted over the radio and the wind that was whipping in his face.

"Why? And let them catch you? I don't think so!" Kurt yelled back. Blaine felt his mouth go dry.

"Let who catch me?" he asked dumbly, trying to seem unaffected by Kurt's comment.

"Those men in the car behind us. Those policemen," Kurt responded.

"Police following me? Are you serious?" Blaine questioned. Kurt eyed Blaine amusedly before answering.

"Yes, the police following you: Blaine Anderson the Warbler."

* * *

**Dun dun DUN!** **Kurt's a smart one isn't he? Blaine's going to have to do some serious fast talking to get out of this one. Anyway, I'm so glad I was able to get this to you guys earlier than I originally planned. I was worried that I was going to have to wait until after I got back from vacation which would have stunk. On a different note, I cannot tell you guys how much I appreciate all of the story alerts and favorite alerts and reviews (!) that I've been getting. It means so much to me and it really makes this writing process worth the occasional writer's block and the countless visits to an online thesaurus. So please review and happy reading! :) **

**Best Wishes, Vintage Vagabond  
**

**P.S. I do not own Glee, Blaine, or Kurt. If I did, that finale would have been a lot better...  
**


	7. Chapter 6

Blaine froze at the mention of his name. His real name. Kurt knew. There was no way this was just a random guess. One look at Kurt's triumphant expression let Blaine know Kurt had it all figured out. Blaine kept his face blank and calmly stared at the road, refusing to let Kurt know that he'd won. He half expected Kurt to repeat himself, to make sure Blaine had heard, but he said nothing. Kurt just sang along softly with the radio and kept driving. Neither of them spoke for the remainder of the drive to the picnic grounds, each pondering what exactly they were going to say to each other. After an excruciating mile of silence, Kurt finally pulled the car into a beautiful spot overlooking the ocean and multiple little villages. Blaine had to admit that Kurt picked a remarkable place to eat lunch. Blaine had lived in the Riviera for years and never once had he come across this place. To be honest, he was glad he hadn't found it before. This way he'd always think of Kurt if he ever visited this place again. He turned to smile at Kurt, but then remembered that he wasn't exactly happy with him at the moment. He glanced away and appreciated the view instead. Kurt finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Isn't this place amazing? I found it a few days ago on a drive with Rachel. Actually, if I can remember correctly, we were trying to find a different place to picnic when we just stumbled across this gorgeous view. It's just simply breathtaking isn't it?" Kurt said dreamily. Blaine nodded.

"It's quite beautiful," he agreed quietly, still wondering what Kurt's next move was.

"That astounding view of the ocean, and all of the cute little rooftops on all of those houses," Kurt paused a moment, and then continued with a mischievous grin on his face. "Just think of all the jewels you could steal from those homes, all of those roofs you could climb," he said nonchalantly. Kurt quickly looked over to see if Blaine had reacted to his words. He didn't. At least, he didn't externally. Internally, Blaine's mind was whirring, wondering how Kurt had been able to come to this conclusion. Did he slip up and respond to his name at some point? Had Finn called him Blaine once? He didn't think so. But somehow Kurt knew and Blaine realized he couldn't just keep avoiding the situation. He had to address it without admitting that he was who Kurt said he was.

"Now what is this with jewel stealing all of a sudden?" Blaine asked.

"Well, isn't that what you do for a living Blaine? You're a jewel thief. Oh quit looking so surprised by my comments. You know I'm right," Kurt said. Blaine shrugged.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Kurt. This…Blaine was it?" Blaine asked for confirmation. Kurt sighed impatiently.

"Yes. Blaine Anderson, otherwise known as you," Kurt replied. Blaine stared at him blankly before speaking again.

"Right. So this Blaine guy, this jewel thief; you think that I'm him?" Blaine questioned.

"I don't think, Blaine. I know," Kurt said confidently.

"Really? And how have you deduced this little idea of yours?" Blaine asked, clearly unimpressed. In contrast to Blaine's demeanor, Kurt brightened considerably, and he repositioned himself so that he was on his side and completely facing Blaine, but still in the driver's seat.

"Well, the first thing I noticed was…" Kurt began excitingly.

"Jeez Kurt, you don't need to be so happy about this," Blaine muttered. Kurt giggled.

"I'm sorry, it's just that…I've never caught a jewel thief before! It's so exhilarating, like opening night on Broadway!" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine snorted.

"Well, as long as you're entertained I suppose it's fine," he said sarcastically.

"Oh please don't be upset Blaine. Your ruse was really quite good. I'm sure nobody else knows except me," Kurt said.

"Knows what Kurt? That you think I'm this Anderson guy? Which I'm not, by the way. I grow coffee. Remember?" Blaine retorted. Kurt scoffed and dismissed that idea with a wave of his hand.

"You might grow coffee, I'm not questioning _that._ But I highly doubt that's your only profession Blaine," Kurt said slyly.

"If you could quit calling me that and instead call me by my real name I'd really appreciate it," Blaine snapped. Kurt smirked in response. Blaine sighed. There was no convincing Kurt that he was anyone but the Warbler. But there was no way he was going to admit that Kurt was right. Who knows what that would lead to?

"Okay Kurt, since you are so excited about this Warbler business, why don't you tell me how you deduced the whole thing," Blaine suggested warily. Kurt's eyes lit up and he began explaining.

"Well, as I started to say earlier, the first time I saw you wasn't actually the day I met you. It was the day before, on the beach. You swam to shore and took a telephone call, remember?" Kurt asked. Blaine's lips twitched into a second-long smile.

"And you noticed me? Out of all those people on the beach?" Blaine inquired. Kurt blushed brightly and looked away.

"Well-I-Erm," he stammered. Blaine looked at him expectantly.

"Look, I'd be lying if I said you weren't attractive Blaine," Kurt finally admitted, thoroughly embarrassed. Blaine blushed at the compliment, but didn't say anything. He waited for Kurt to continue his story.

"So I went on with my day and didn't think twice about you. That is, until last night. You were at the hotel restaurant, but it wasn't until I actually met you at the bar that I really recognized you. I remember you told us that you arrived at the Vertaine a couple of days ago. We had already been there for two weeks and I'm sure either Rachel or I would have noticed you if you had been there for as long as you said," Kurt continued.

"You know, you could have just not seen me. Maybe you aren't as observant as you believe yourself to be," Blaine pointed out.

"I highly doubt it. Anyway that's not the only thing I noticed," Kurt retorted. "When we all went back to our table after meeting you in the bar, Finn introduced himself in a very odd manner. Usually Finn's very casual and relaxed, but with you he made a very big show of letting us all know that he'd never met you before. That struck me as very odd. And it got me wondering if and why you two would have talked before. Well, Finn's in the insurance business, mainly jewels, so maybe you two worked together at some point. So, I did a little digging on the internet, read some of the local papers, and found out that the entire Riviera is all in a frenzy about this thief named Blaine Anderson, otherwise known as the Warbler. One online article just so happened to have a photo of this Warbler, and the man in that picture looked a lot like you. It wasn't hard for me to put two and two together," Kurt finished smugly. He then hopped out of the car and pulled out the picnic basket and a blanket from the backseat.

"C'mon, I thought you said you were hungry!" Kurt called out while walking toward a patch of grass. Blaine sighed and got out of the car, cursing his stomach for causing him to follow Kurt. He made his way over to the grass where Kurt had already laid the blanket down and was getting food out of the basket. Blaine lay down on his side, propping his elbow up and resting his head on his hand. He watched Kurt, as he finished placing all of the food on the blanket. He pulled out two bottles of water and handed one to Blaine. Blaine sat up and started guzzling the water.

"Gosh, if I knew you were going to be this thirsty, I would have given you something to drink earlier," Kurt commented.

"Yeah, well, getting interrogated makes me parched," Blaine said sarcastically.

"Well, I'll stop for now I guess, but I haven't even gotten to the best part yet," Kurt said, a little disappointed.

"Well, we can't stop right before it gets good now can we?" Blaine asked, earning a smile from Kurt.

"I suppose not. So, you had basically a foolproof plan, except for one mistake, which I caught," Kurt said proudly.

"Which would be what?" Blaine asked.

"That villa. The villa that you said you wanted to buy. That place isn't for sale; it belongs to the Motta's. I'm actually going to a party there in about a week," Kurt said smugly.

"Of course Kurt, you realize that you could be completely wrong about this whole thing. You might have some evidence, but you really are just guessing," Blaine said

"This is true. I could be wrong. But I don't think I am," Kurt said. Blaine sighed in defeat.

"Are you planning on stealing Rachel's jewels? Is that why you met us yesterday? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Besides, now that I know, I hope you will hold off on robbing us," Kurt said. Blaine said nothing.

"Well, anyway I know the next house we should hit: the Jacobson's. They are so boring and the jewelry the wife wears is extremely gaudy, but the gems-"

"We? What do you mean 'we'?" Blaine interrupted.

"I mean, that with my knowledge of the local socialites, and your thieving skills, we could become quite the team!" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why do I have the feeling that I know what you are going to say next?" Blaine said warily. Kurt grinned and inched his way toward Blaine, sitting to the right of him.

"Don't you think it's time for the Warbler to start singing duets? I, for one, think two heads are better than one…or should I say that birds of a feather should flock together?" Kurt said coyly.

"Even if I was the Warbler, I don't think a tag-team jewel heist would be what I would have in mind," Blaine said dryly. He was back to lying on his side and he looked at Kurt irritatedly. Kurt didn't seem effected by Blaine's glare.

"I don't see the problem with having two people on a job. I know all of the perfect targets. I even know some of the layouts of their homes. I think I could be a great asset," Kurt said.

"I think you might be over-confident in your skills," Blaine shot back. Kurt gave him a doubtful glance.

"I disagree. I'd be able to…wait a second," Kurt smiled. "Of course! You already have a list don't you? I bet it's that 'real estate' list you've been carrying around. Let me see that."

Kurt reached toward Blaine's pocket to extract the green list. Blaine caught Kurt's arm with his hand and held it tightly, their faces a few inches from each other. Hazel met blue as they stared each other down, neither of them willing to back off.

"I'd be careful if I were you, you're leaving fingerprints _all _over my arm," Kurt breathed.

Blaine surged forward, capturing Kurt's lips in a heated kiss. Kurt relaxed immediately and sharply exhaled, which caused a shiver to run down Blaine's spine. Blaine finally let go of Kurt's arm and placed his hands on Kurt's waist and pulled him impossibly closer. Kurt's hands made their way to Blaine's shoulders and gripped them as he repositioned himself so that he was practically on Blaine's lap. Blaine kept his hands on Kurt's waist and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. It wasn't until his head felt light that Blaine realized that he needed to breathe. He reluctantly pulled away, earning an unhappy huff from Kurt. He took a couple of breaths to slow his heart down. He didn't dare look at Kurt, who was still in his lap and at the moment leaving a trail of kisses down Blaine's face and neck, because he knew that his heart would just begin to race all over again.

After a few moments, Blaine finally placed his hand under Kurt's chin and lifted it gently to fully look at his face. Kurt's eyes were bright as ever, but somehow they were bluer than he remembered, his irises matching the hue of the ocean. His pale face was flushed and his lips red and kiss-swollen. Blaine figured his lips were just as red. Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine again, this time a much softer and sweeter kiss. Blaine closed his eyes and instinctively grabbed Kurt's hand, stroking Kurt's thumb with his own. The two broke away again, each giving the other a shy smile before Kurt got off Blaine's lap and went to get the food.

"So umm, we have chicken, a little bit of potato salad, some corn on the cob, and for dessert: watermelon," Kurt said a little out of breath. Blaine laughed at the quick change of subject.

"That all sounds good. Did you prepare it yourself?" Blaine asked. Kurt shook his head.

"No, it's all from the hotel. That doesn't mean that I can't cook though. I'm actually quite an excellent cook. I just didn't have time today," Kurt answered.

"I understand. I wish I could do more than just microwave things," Blaine said glumly. Kurt giggled and started fixing two plates of food.

"Do you want a leg or a breast?" Kurt asked.

"Leg please. I'm not a much of a breast guy," Blaine joked. Kurt groaned.

"I guess that was a perfect setup wasn't it?" Kurt said.

"Yes, it was," Blaine agreed.

Kurt finished fixing the plates of food, made his way back to Blaine, and sat down next to him. The two ate in relative silence, the only talking being Blaine repeatedly complimenting Kurt on the food and Kurt repeatedly saying that he didn't cook the food so stop complimenting him. When they finished eating, Blaine collected the trash and wandered over to the waste bin. On his way to and from the trash can, Blaine thought about what exactly his and Kurt's relationship was. He made a mistake, kissing Kurt. He was being reckless and spontaneous and breaking his rule of not getting attached to Kurt. But at the moment he was anything but unattached, and Blaine found himself caring less and less that he wasn't following his own rules. Kurt made him happy and Blaine figured after these last few horrible weeks, he deserved a little happiness.

Blaine sat back down in his spot, lazily tilted his head back, and closed his eyes, feeling the sun's warm rays on his face. He felt a small pressure on his shoulder and opened his eyes and saw Kurt, who was cautiously leaning toward Blaine and putting his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine smiled at Kurt's nervousness, He could understand the hesitation though. Neither of them had talked about what they were exactly, so neither was sure about what actions would be welcomed. But what Kurt was doing now was more than okay. Blaine grabbed Kurt's left hand with his right and laced their fingers together. Blaine felt Kurt's smile on his shoulder and Blaine turned his head and gave a small peck on Kurt's head. Kurt hummed happily and snuggled closer to Blaine's side.

"So how is this going to work?" Kurt asked softly. Blaine eyed him quizzically.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you can't stay here forever. You're a wanted man. Maybe you could flee France for a while and I could eventually join you! Oh, but then there's the whole issue with leaving Rachel behind," Kurt thought out loud. Blaine unlaced his hand and put a finger on Kurt's lips to stop him.

"Kurt, you forget, I'm not the Warbler. I'm a simple coffee grower," Blaine said. Kurt lifted his head and stared at him incredulously.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Kurt asked. Blaine shrugged.

"Not really, but I'm not going to admit to anything," Blaine replied.

"Well, just so you know, I'm not going to call you Matthew," Kurt warned.

"That's okay. Blaine's a nice name,' Blaine grinned cheekily. Kurt pouted and turned around, his back facing Blaine.

"Hey, hey now, don't be upset," Blaine said. He crawled up behind Kurt and put his arms around Kurt's torso, urging him to lean back into Blaine's chest. Kurt refused to budge and crossed his arms. He stiffened when he felt Blaine's chin resting on his shoulder.

"Why can't we just spend the rest of our afternoon enjoying each other's company without worrying about our names or our jobs," Blaine suggested. Kurt glanced at Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

"I might be willing to agree with that," Kurt said. "Under one condition."

"And what would that be?" Blaine inquired.

"Have dinner with me tonight," Kurt stated.

"But I thought I was already having dinner with you," Blaine pointed out.

"That was with me and Rachel. I'm talking about dinner with just me. There's going to be a big fireworks display tonight. The view should be great from my room," Kurt said.

"I suppose I could agree to that," Blaine said. Kurt smiled and finally leaned back into Blaine's embrace. Blaine grinned and nuzzled Kurt's neck.

"Be at my room by seven. Don't be late Blaine Warbler," Kurt ordered sternly.

"I don't have a decent watch," Blaine teased. Kurt rolled his eyes and gave Blaine a peck on the lips.

"Then steal one."

XXX

They remained at the grounds for hours, finding shapes in the clouds, sharing secrets (the ones Blaine could actually tell), and kissing, obviously. It wasn't until Kurt was sitting with Blaine's head on his lap and absentmindedly running his fingers through Blaine's curls that he noticed how low in the sky the sun was getting.

"Oh shoot," Kurt said.

"What is it?" Blaine murmured sleepily.

"It's getting pretty late and I didn't exactly tell Rachel where I was going. She's probably freaking out right now," Kurt sighed.

"Mmm, don't worry about it. If she's worried she can just call you," Blaine said reassuringly. He opened his eyes and smiled at Kurt tenderly. Kurt scratched the back of his neck and smiled a little sheepishly.

"Yeah…I may have left my phone at the hotel…on purpose," Kurt admitted. Blaine barked out a laugh and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I guess we should head back then," Blaine sighed. Kurt nodded his head. They exchanged a few more lazy kisses before packing up and returning to the roadster. The ride back to the Vertaine was much more relaxing considering Kurt actually followed the speed limit this time.

Once back at the hotel, the pair parked the car, entered the lobby, and made their way to the elevator. Delighted that no one joined them before the door closed, Blaine took this opportunity to effectively pin Kurt to the wall and kiss every inch of his face. Kurt laughed breathlessly and tried to push Blaine off of him.

"Blaine!" he giggled. "We can't do this right now. Not in the elevator!"

Blaine ignored Kurt's feeble protests and continued his kissing.

"But I thought you liked excitement and risk. You know, opening night on Broadway and all that," Blaine teased between kisses. He made his way toward Kurt's ear and gently nibbled on his earlobe.

"Blaine!" Kurt squeaked. "C'mon, stop."

"Now see, I'm getting rather upset that you won't call me by my real name anymore," Blaine pouted. Kurt scoffed.

"That's ridiculous. You should be happy that I'm calling you by your real name and not your alias," Kurt said.

"Again Kurt, that's not –oomph!" Blaine yelped as Kurt managed to unpin himself and silence Blaine with a forceful kiss. Blaine felt his knees grow weak and he reached toward the bar on the elevator in order to stable himself, while Kurt played with the small curls at the nape of Blaine's neck. They were interrupted by the annoying ding of the elevator signaling that it had reached Blaine's floor. Blaine huffed and reluctantly pulled away from Kurt's embrace.

"This is me…11th floor, room 1128" Blaine said woefully. Kurt laughed at Blaine's melancholy expression.

"My god, you're acting like you aren't going to see me for years. It's only a few hours I promise. Room 1217, just in case you forgot," Kurt winked. Blaine nodded and gave Kurt a brief kiss on the cheek before exiting the elevator. He waved at Kurt as the doors shut again.

Blaine walked toward his room, swiftly removed his key card, and opened the door. He glanced at the view from the window. The sun was just starting to set. He had about two and a half hours before he needed to be at Kurt's suite, which was just as well because he had to make a phone call. Blaine opened his suitcase and took out his cell phone. He was surprised to see he had a new message. No one called him. Ever. He called his voicemail and smiled when he heard Santana's voice.

"Hey Blaine, it's me. I was just calling to see how things were going. I'm guessing either really bad or really good considering you aren't answering your phone. So call me back and fill me in okay? I've been so bored since you left. You aren't here to mess up the house or set the kitchen on fire. Believe it or not, I kind of miss that. Okay, well, talk to you soon…I hope." The phone clicked, signaling the end of the message. Blaine immediately dialed his home number; the other call could wait a few minutes. Santana picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" she asked. "Who's this?"

"Hi Santana, I'm just returning your call," Blaine stated. He heard Santana scoff on the other end.

"Well it's about time! You aren't one to not let me know where you are," Santana said.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that. I've just been really swamped with this Warbler business. He knows I'm on to him. He left me a note this morning saying so," Blaine grimaced.

"Are you alright? I've read the papers and he pulled another heist last night. Have the police been after you?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, I'm great Tana, no worries. The police tailed me a little bit today, but I managed to lose them," Blaine said reassuringly.

"Okay, if you say so. So tell me about Berry. Is she as obnoxious as I assume she is? And what about her friend…Kurt, right? I think that's what Finn called him. What's he like?" Santana asked rapidly. Blaine chuckled.

"Santana! Slow down. I'm going to answer your questions, I swear. Rachel is very nice. A tad enthusiastic maybe…but it doesn't subtract from her character or anything. And man, does she have the gems. She's a definite target," he declared.

"And?" Santana prompted. "What about the best friend?"

Blaine thought a moment before answering.

"Kurt is…Kurt is something else," Blaine said, smiling into the receiver. He heard Santana's laughter on the other end.

"What?" he questioned.

"Nothing Blaine, it's just…I can tell from just your tone that you've already got it bad for this guy," she teased.

"Well Tana, it's kind of hard not to. He's…something else," Blaine repeated, laughing a little.

"I got that," Santana deadpanned. "Just, don't fall too hard okay? It's not like you're going to get to see him again after this whole charade ends," Santana warned. Blaine deflated a little at the thought of leaving in a couple of days. It wasn't something he was particularly excited about.

"But hey, who's to say that you can't have a little fun while you're there?" Santana suggested playfully.

"Yeah I suppose so," Blaine said quietly.

"Okay Blaine, thanks for calling. I'll let you go now. Catch that Warbler," Santana ordered.

"Will do. G'bye," Blaine said before hanging up. He quickly dialed another number and waited.

"Hello?" a voice asked quizzically.

"Hey Schue, it's me Blaine," Blaine said.

"Blaine!" Will exclaimed. "It's funny you called because I was just wanting to contact you, but I wasn't sure how I would go about doing that," he said.

"Well, you got me on the phone now," Blaine said plainly.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Will mused. "I wanted to apologize for giving you the cold shoulder earlier today. I just didn't know if you were actually Blaine at that moment or pretending to be someone else. And with that other guy with you I wasn't willing to take that chance," he said.

"Thanks for the explanation. It's a good thing too because I wasn't being Blaine right then. What I'm curious about is why you were there today in the first place," Blaine stated.

"Well, I don't know if you've heard, but there's going to be a huge party there in about a week. I'm catering the event, so I wanted to check out the grounds and the kitchen. So, that's what I was doing. What were you doing there? And with a friend no less," Will wondered.

"Working," Blaine answered bluntly.

"Don't worry, I won't pry," Will promised. "Just one question…who _was _that guy you were with. You certainly seemed very content while walking arm and arm with him," Will hinted.

"I wouldn't worry about it Mr. Schue. You won't see any announcements in the papers or anything," Blaine joked in an attempt to end this part of the conversation.

"Alright Blaine, good to know. And thanks for the call," Will said.

"It seems like you are the only one over there that actually wants speak to me. At least speak to me and not kill me. That's what I've been hearing," Blaine muttered.

"Well, my restaurant has been insane with all of the police here. No one really wants to go to jail. Wrap this up won't you? I don't think my business can survive these constant police raids," Will frowned.

"Okay Mr. Schue, I'll try," Blaine said reassuringly.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Will said before hanging up.

Blaine tossed his phone back into his suitcase and went to the closet to pick out his best suit. He had a date tonight, and damn it, he was going to enjoy it. Warbler or no Warbler.

XXX

Blaine checked his reflection in the hallway mirror just before approaching Kurt's room. He spent about two hours on his curls, making sure not a single one was out of place. It took longer than he had thought, mainly because Santana forbade him from packing his gel. He stared at his reflection, picking imaginary lint off his suit. He arrived at Kurt's door and gave it a couple of light knocks.

"One second!" Kurt's voice called from inside the room. Blaine fiddled with his cufflinks until he heard the door open. Blaine looked up and gasped softly. To say Kurt looked stunning was an understatement. He wore sleek black pants and a crisp white shirt without a wrinkle in sight and a silver tie. Over the shirt was a jacket the same shade of silver as the tie. On the jacket was a brilliant diamond pin that sparkled in even the faintest of light. Kurt smiled shyly as Blaine continued to stare.

"Well…what do you think?" Kurt asked, giving a small turn. "I'm assuming it's safe for me to say that you like it," Kurt said happily.

"Yes Kurt. I like it," Blaine said sweetly. Kurt stepped aside and ushered Blaine inside.

"Would you like dinner first? Or maybe a drink?" Kurt offered.

"Umm dinner sounds great, if that's alright," Blaine said.

"Yeah that's fine; let me just find some matches…ah here they are!" Kurt chirped as he grabbed a matchbox from the fireplace mantle. He struck one and lit the candles that were in the center of the table.

"There! Now everything's perfect," Kurt declared. They sat down at the table and began to eat.

"Wow, Kurt, this is fantastic. I'm definitely going to remember to order room service here," Blaine thought out loud.

"Yes, the hotel kitchen did a great job. It's almost perfect," Kurt said.

"Almost? Kurt Hummel, are you saying you could do better?" Blaine teased. Kurt smiled slyly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he answered. "Just wait until dessert. It was made by yours truly."

"That, is something I cannot wait for," Blaine stated.

"I'm not surprised, you seem to be a man of little patience," Kurt said. Blaine's eyes glinted mischievously.

"I normally don't have to wait long to get what I want," he replied.

"Hmm, what do you know? Something else that we have in common," Kurt mused. The two watched each other meticulously throughout the meal, both trying to solve the riddle in front of them. Blaine noticed how Kurt shifted every few minutes purposefully, causing the pendant on his jacket to sparkle. Kurt knew exactly what he was doing and was just waiting for Blaine to slip up and stare at the diamonds.

Well, Blaine thought. He's going to have to wait a while.

"So where is Rachel tonight? I'm sure she wouldn't just stay in on a night like this, with the fireworks and all," Blaine assumed.

"You would be correct," Kurt confirmed. "She's down at Beethoven's Fifth with Finn. She wanted to go out and I, for once, refused, for obvious reasons. So, she called our insurance agent. I'm not sure what's weirder: her calling him or Finn agreeing to go," Kurt chuckled.

"Eh, I wouldn't be surprised if Finn followed Rachel into the middle of the desert. He's not exactly subtle," Blaine said. Kurt nodded fiercely in agreement.

"I know! I mean lord, is Rachel the only person who doesn't see that Finn's practically in love with her?" he wondered. Blaine laughed and the two fell into the easy and casual conversation that was effortless for them now. They finished dinner and Kurt left the table to retrieve dessert.

"Now, it's been a little while since I've had time to cook, so don't be too critical alright? I know if I'd had more time I could have made something a little more extravagant than tiramisu," Kurt said. He bit his lip and he watched Blaine take a bite.

"Oh god, Kurt this is delicious," Blaine declared. Kurt let out a breath in relief and giggled as he watched Blaine shovel down the rest of the dessert in a matter of seconds.

"It's good to know that I'm not completely rusty when it comes to cooking," Kurt said lightly. Blaine smiled bashfully and wiped off all of the remaining crumbs from his face.

"Sorry, it's just that, that was _really _good," Blaine admitted. Kurt shook his head fondly and got up from the table. He wandered casually towards the window and looked outside.

"It looks like the fireworks are about to start. Let me just turn out the lights and blow out the candles to get a better view," Kurt said. After doing just that, Kurt returned to the window. His pendant shined in the moonlight and Kurt smiled enticingly as Blaine got up from the table and joined Kurt at the window.

"Would you like a drink?" Kurt asked.

"Actually yeah I would," Blaine said. He poured himself some bourbon and asked if Kurt wanted anything.

"No thank you," Kurt said. "Some nights you don't need to drink to feel exhilarated," he said dreamily. The fireworks finally started and bursts of color sporadically lit up the night sky. The two watched in silence until Kurt spoke again.

"So I'd love to ask you a question," Kurt proposed. Blaine cocked his head curiously.

"Okay…" Blaine said cautiously. Kurt smiled and stepped back from the window and into the shadows of the room.

"Well, say that you've staked out a house for days, and tonight was the night you were finally going to rob the place. You know the layout, the owner's sleeping patterns, everything. You've dressed in all black, scaled the building, and you go to open the window…and it's locked! All of that planning and exhilaration turned into frustration. What would you do?" Kurt inquired. Blaine shrugged his shoulders.

"I dunno…I'd go home and watch some television I guess," Blaine answered. Kurt let out a frustrating huff.

"But the jewels are right there! Wouldn't you use a glass cutter or, or even your fist? Wouldn't you try anything to get what you want?" Kurt asked fiercely.

"No, I'd just go home and watch some television," Blaine said wryly. Kurt came forward a few steps from the shadows.

"C'mon Blaine, drop the charade. I've seen your eyes peering at my pendant all night. Doesn't it make you nervous to be so close to a room that has jewelry worth thousands of dollars in it?" Kurt asked as he glanced at the door that connected his room to Rachel's. He made his way toward the couch and reclined against the arm of the sofa. He looked at Blaine through his lashes and smiled seductively.

"No, at the moment I have things other than gems on my mind," Blaine stated. The room occasionally lit up due to the bright intensity of the fireworks outside. Colors tinted the room and Blaine gazed at Kurt's pale skin as it reflected the blues and reds of the fireworks. Blaine walked towards Kurt and gingerly sat on the opposite side of the sofa. Kurt leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Blaine's.

"I highly doubt that Blaine. I'm sure that you would be more than interested in a potential job. The owners of the villa we cased today, the Mottas, are having their annual gala soon. It's a grand event and many guests spend the weekend there at the house. There will be millions of dollars worth of jewels there and I can get you a ticket. What do you say? Have you ever had a better offer?" Kurt whispered. Blaine laughed quietly and scooted closer to Kurt so that their knees touched.

"Well, I've never had a crazier one," he answered.

"Just as long as you're satisfied," Kurt intimated. "And you can't fool me Blaine Anderson, even in this light I can see where your eyes are looking," Kurt said coquettishly. Blaine leaned forward unbelievably close to Kurt, their breaths mingling.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you," Blaine breathed. Kurt pulled away slightly and gently grabbed Blaine's hand. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut as Kurt kissed the pads of Blaine's fingers and his pulse point. He gently placed Blaine's hand over the pin and coincidentally, over his heart.

"Hold them Blaine, diamonds, the only think you can't resist," Kurt murmured. Blaine smiled.

"You know as well as I do that this brooch is artificial," Blaine said triumphantly. Kurt let go of Blaine's hand and gently caressed Blaine's cheek.

"That may be true, but I'm not," Kurt whispered.

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned into Kurt's touch, placing his own hand on top of Kurt's. Kurt slowly inched forward and kissed Blaine tenderly. Blaine immediately kissed back and roughly tangled his fingers through Kurt's hair. He pulled Kurt's head back forcefully and latched onto his neck. Kurt gasped sharply as Blaine left little licks and love bites, marking him as his and his alone. Kurt yelped as Blaine found a particular sensitive spot on Kurt's neck and bit down hard. He then licked the bite and blew cool air to sooth it, causing Kurt to whimper softly. Kurt's breathing quickened and he lifted Blaine's head and kissed him hungrily. Blaine felt Kurt's tongue swipe against his lower lip and he opened his mouth to give Kurt access. The two kissed passionately, each one fighting amorously for dominance, but neither holding it for very long. Blaine shifted his position and gently pushed Kurt onto his back. Blaine hovered over Kurt and looked at him intensely, his pupils blown with lust. Seeing the desire in Blaine's eyes, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and pulled him impossibly close. He kissed Blaine fervidly, and ran his hands slowly up and down Blaine's back, causing Blaine to cry sensuously. Blaine eventually broke the kiss, smiled at Kurt lovingly, and softly kissed his temple. He heard Kurt sigh sweetly and he looked into Kurt's bedroom eyes that sparkled and gleamed with such love and adoration that Blaine found himself getting lost in Kurt's gaze. Kurt was perfect, and Blaine wanted nothing more than the chance to show him how perfect he truly was, to be able to worship every inch of him and give Kurt the love that he sincerely deserved. He stroked Kurt's cheek delicately and silently asked him with his honey colored eyes for permission to love him in the deepest way possible. Kurt's eyes shone happily and he gave the tiniest of nods.

"Yes," he barely whispered. "Please, Blaine."

Blaine had never been happier to hear his name and not the name Matthew. He didn't bother correcting Kurt anymore. He didn't want to. It was Blaine, not Matthew who was in front of Kurt and he needed to hear his name tumble from Kurt's lips. He leaned down and kissed Kurt tantalizingly slow, his heart bursting with devotion to the bewitching man in his arms. Kurt moaned softly and wrapped his arms and legs around Blaine's neck and torso. Blaine gripped Kurt's legs firmly and rose to his feet. Kurt tucked his head into the crook of Blaine's neck, as Blaine carried him into the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

Outside, the fireworks continued illuminating the night sky, reflecting the wonder and the bright passion of the Riviera.

* * *

**Hi all! I hoped you enjoyed this latest installment. I know this story is categorized as a Mystery/Romance so I thought I would up the romance. I hope I did a decent enough job. To be honest I was REALLY nervous about writing this chapter so again I hope you guys like it! Next up: The Warbler strikes again! Please review if you can! I'd really appreciate it. **

**Best Wishes! Vintage Vagabond **

**I don't own Glee, Blaine, Kurt, or any part of To Catch a Thief.  
**


	8. Chapter 7

Moonlight shone through the thin gossamer curtains of the bedroom, giving the room a calming and serene feel. However, as peaceful and perfect as the night seemed, Blaine Anderson was restless. He lay awake in the dark with the sheets pooled at his hips, and Kurt sleeping soundly on his chest. Blaine craned his neck, trying to see the time on the alarm clock without disturbing Kurt. The LED display on the clock shone in an angry red, practically yelling the time: 1:42 a.m. Blaine sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. He closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. After a while, Blaine reopened his eyes and checked the clock again: 1:53 a.m. Blaine groaned irritably, angry at himself for not being able to relax. Kurt stirred at the sound of Blaine's voice, snuffling in his sleep and drawing Blaine closer. Despite his frustration, Blaine smiled a little at the sheer adorableness that was an asleep Kurt Hummel. He gently rubbed Kurt's back and placed a kiss at his hair line.

"Mmm…Blaine," Kurt murmured softly before his breathing once again became heavy with sleep.

At least one of us can rest, Blaine thought. Something was definitely wrong. Blaine just couldn't put his finger on it. Trying not to wake his lover, Blaine got up from the bed, and silently put on the clothes that had been thrown haphazardly around the room in a fit of passion. He finished buttoning his shirt, and made his way back to Kurt. Blaine desperately wanted to linger there. He wanted to be there with Kurt when he woke up in the morning, but that wasn't possible. Looking at his sleeping form, Blaine placed a final kiss on Kurt's lips and left the room. Blaine looked around the suite, giving a quick wistful glance back at the bedroom door before exiting to the hallway.

Blaine took the elevator back to his hallway, briskly entered his room, and immediately went to the window. He unlocked the door leading to the balcony and stepped out into the cool crisp air. He looked along the exterior of the building, trying to see any open windows or anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing looked off or out of place. All the rooms Blaine could see were dark and the windows closed. Blaine returned to his room and locked the balcony door just as he heard the smallest of thumps from above. Blaine urgently ran back outside and peered towards the rooftop of the hotel. Seeing nothing once more, Blaine went back inside and closed the door yet again. He headed to his room to attempt sleep when the hallway door opened wide. Blaine instantly recognized the silhouette against the bright light in the hall and smiled warmly.

"Hi Kurt. I'm sorry I left. I was just feeling a little antsy and I didn't want to disturb you. Trust me, I would have loved to stay there all night with you," Blaine explained. Kurt didn't answer, nor did he move from his place in the door frame. Blaine could tell from Kurt's stance that he was upset. Blaine's smile quickly dissipated.

"Kurt? Is everything alright?" Blaine asked worriedly.

"Give them back," Kurt said coldly. Blaine squinted his eyes in confusion.

"Give what back Kurt? What do you mean?" he inquired.

"Rachel's jewels. Give them back, I know you have them," Kurt hissed. Blaine's eyes widened in surprise and he quickly approached Kurt to console him.

"Kurt, I don't have them. Did someone take them just now?" Blaine asked.

"Yes, someone just took them and I'm looking right at him!" Kurt exclaimed. He pushed past Blaine and immediately started rummaging through his luggage. Blaine went over and gently pulled on Kurt's arm.

"C'mon Kurt, stop looking through my stuff," Blaine said softly. Kurt yanked his arm out of Blaine's grip.

"Don't touch me," Kurt snapped, his eyes never leaving Blaine's belongings. Blaine recoiled at Kurt's harsh words, his eyes starting to prickle with angry tears.

"It's funny Kurt, I seem to recall you begging for my touch only a few hours ago," he spat. Kurt whirled around and silenced Blaine with a brutal slap across the face. Blaine cried out in pain and clutched the stinging mark on his skin. He looked up at Kurt, and saw nothing but pure rage and heartbreak.

"Do not, say anything like that to me ever again. I have never felt more cheap and worthless than I do right now. You…you _used_ me Blaine," Kurt said brokenly. "I just want to know why, _why_ you would do something like this."

"Kurt, I promise you, I didn't do this. I didn't take them." Blaine pleaded.

"Bullshit," Kurt muttered. Blaine let out a frustrating yell.

"I can't believe you don't trust me. I thought you had more faith in me than this. I thought we meant something to each other. You certainly mean something to me," Blaine mumbled the last part sadly. Kurt laughed humorlessly.

"You mean _nothing_ to me," Kurt said bitterly, his back facing Blaine, effectively hiding the tears streaming down his face. Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath to keep from crying. He opened them and stared at Kurt, his eyes full of hate.

"Go ahead Kurt, search this room all you want. You won't find anything here though, except your insufferable pride," Blaine seethed. He left the room, slamming the door behind him, unable to hear the soft sounds of Kurt crying.

Blaine stormed through the hallway on his way to Rachel's room. He made it all the way inside the elevator before completely falling apart. Hot, angry tears sprang from his eyes as he cried uncontrollably, loud ugly sobs wracking through his small frame. The doors opened and Blaine tried his best to pull himself together. He wiped his tears on his sleeve and walked to Rachel's room, knowing he still had a red nose and puffy eyes. He had always been an unattractive crier. He was surprised to see Rachel's door open wide. Blaine cautiously poked his head inside.

"Hello? Rachel?" he called.

"Matthew? Is that you?" Rachel asked from her bedroom.

"Yeah it's me. Kurt told me you've been robbed," Blaine answered. Rachel appeared from her room and gave Blaine a brief hug. Blaine relished in the embrace, pretending for a brief moment that he was in someone else's arms before pulling away. Rachel frowned a little at Blaine's tear-streaked face but decided not to pry.

"Yeah, it did. I just noticed a few minutes ago. All of my jewelry has been stolen," Rachel replied before her face furrowed in confusion.

"But wait, where is Kurt? I'm surprised he didn't show up here with you," she said. Blaine sighed a little.

"No, he's down a floor, looking in my room," he responded.

"Why the heck would Kurt be searching your room? He said he knew where my jewels were," Rachel remarked. Blaine laughed darkly.

"Well, the answer's kind of obvious isn't it? He thinks I have them," he said grimly. "Do you mind if I search your bedroom for a few minutes?"

"Don't you think we should call the police or something like that?" she retorted. Blaine hesitated a second before answering.

"I'd like to take a look first if that's okay with you," he insisted. Rachel shrugged.

"Sure, I don't have any problem with that. In fact, if I can be perfectly honest with you, I'm glad to be rid of them," Rachel whispered. Blaine looked at her in surprise.

"You can't be serious Rachel," Blaine reasoned. Rachel smiled a little.

"But I am! It was getting to be so tiring taking them everywhere. It's much more exciting having them stolen from me. Now I get to solve a mystery! Well, the police do, but I can still be involved!" Rachel babbled happily as she followed Blaine into the bedroom.

"I guess as long as Finn pays you for the jewels, no harm done huh?" Blaine surmised. Rachel's face fell.

"Oh no, Finn. He could lose his job for this couldn't he? Oh, now I feel horrible," Rachel said sadly, placing her head in her hands.

"I wouldn't worry about Finn. He might be put on a short leash, but he won't be fired," Blaine replied as he looked carefully at Rachel's things. He saw no sign of entry. All the windows were locked, and other than the missing jewels, nothing else was disturbed. Blaine then grimaced as he noticed the yellow feather carefully placed on Rachel's nightstand. This was definitely the new Warbler's doing. Perfect.

"Wait Matthew, there's something I don't quite understand," Rachel began.

"What's that?" Blaine asked.

"It's just…why on Earth does Kurt think you have my gems? You, a simple coffee man," Rachel wondered aloud. Blaine stopped his investigation and sighed. He supposed it was time for him to come clean.

"It's because my name isn't Matthew. It's Blaine, Blaine Anderson, and I was a jewel thief many years ago," he confessed. He turned around and saw Rachel wearing a look of joy on her face. Blaine was confused to say the least.

"Well, isn't that just the coolest thing! To think, I'm friends with a jewel thief!" Rachel exclaimed.

"_Former_ jewel thief," Blaine corrected.

"Former jewel thief," Rachel echoed. "So who took my jewelry? Do you know?" she asked. Blaine shook his head no.

"All I know is that I'm being framed for these crimes and the new Warbler wants me out of town. Either that or in jail," he muttered. Rachel looked at Blaine sympathetically.

"Well, maybe you'll find some fingerprints or something," Rachel suggested helpfully. Blaine shook his head again.

"No, the thief wouldn't leave any prints. I never did," Blaine replied. Rachel nodded in understanding. She suddenly smiled smugly at Blaine.

"Kurt must have had you figured out all along," she said slyly.

"He guessed today. He was quite pleased with himself," Blaine replied a little tightly. Rachel laughed.

"I wouldn't doubt it. I know Kurt seems very reserved, but he can be very passionate when he wants to be," Rachel declared. Blaine turned his head, divided by tears and smiles.

"Yeah, I've found that out about him," he mumbled. Rachel frowned at Blaine's melancholy and was about to ask him about it when Kurt walked into the room. Kurt's mouth opened in shock at seeing Blaine before his entire face turned into a mask of cool indifference.

"Rachel, don't say anything to him," Kurt ordered. Rachel scoffed and looked at Kurt skeptically.

"Or what Kurt? What are you going to do? Ground me?" Rachel said sarcastically. Kurt simply glared.

"You don't know who he really is Rachel, he's-"

"Blaine Anderson, a former jewel thief, and in my opinion, one of the best men I've had the pleasure of knowing," Rachel said.

"Oh please Rachel, don't be an idiot. He's the one who took your jewels!" Kurt snapped, glowering at Blaine.

"Really? Somehow I find that hard to believe. Where's your proof?" Rachel asked pointedly. Kurt smiled triumphantly.

"You want evidence? I can give you evidence. While looking through Blaine's clothes, I noticed every single item had a French label in it. Kind of odd for an American to have strictly French clothing isn't it? And while I rummaged through his luggage, I discovered his real estate list. Just as I thought, it's a list of all the people in the area that have jewels worth taking. And guess what Rachel, we're on it," Kurt replied, pulling out the green list. Blaine approached Kurt and snatched the list from his hands, tucking it in his pocket for safekeeping.

"I'll take that, thank you," he growled before hearing a slight thump. The same thump he heard when he was in his own room. Blaine darted toward the source of the sound and smiled when he saw a small cabinet that led to the air shaft.

"I've found where the thief entered your room: to and from this air shaft. It's quite a small fit. I hate to admit it, but it really is a perfect entering point," Blaine sighed before closing the cabinet doors. Kurt scoffed.

"Stop coming up with wild ideas Blaine, we both know how you got in here and it was through the door that connects Rachel's room to mine," he hissed. Rachel frowned in confusion.

"But why would Blaine be in your room in the first place Kurt? That doesn't make any-" Rachel's eyes widened in comprehension as she watched both men turn red.

"Oh my god!" she squealed. She smiled a megawatt smile which quickly changed into a look of annoyance.

"Kurt!" she scolded, "How on earth could you think Blaine would do this? He obviously cares about us, you more than me," she added. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"We don't mean anything to him Rachel. We're just obstacles that stand in the way of what he really wants," he stressed.

"Really?" Rachel asked skeptically. "Alright then Kurt, I have two questions for you. One: Blaine obviously doesn't have the jewels now, so where are they?"

Kurt thought a moment before answering, "He must have given them to his accomplice."

Blaine cleared his throat to speak.

"Could I-?" he started to say.

"Shh!" Kurt and Rachel replied, simultaneously cutting Blaine off, before continuing their debate.

"Okay Kurt, question two: if he's already gotten the jewels, what is he doing here now?" Rachel asked.

"Returning to the scene of the crime," Kurt answered simply. Blaine snorted, earning Kurt's attention.

"Find something funny Blaine?" Kurt questioned coldly.

"Actually, yes. I think it's hilarious that so many people believe thieves do that. How dumb do they think we are?" Blaine replied calmly. Kurt just smirked.

"Well, obviously some thieves still do it because here you are. By the way, I phoned the police from your room and I told them all about who you really are and everything that you did tonight," Kurt sniffed. Blaine looked at him in surprise.

"Everything? Oh that poor fellow who answered the phone. I'm sure you scarred him for life," Blaine mused as Kurt blushed bright red again. Rachel giggled and gave Blaine a small thumbs-up.

"Rachel, stop encouraging him!" Kurt snapped as he sat down in a chair across from Rachel's bed. "See, this is why I always have to look after you, to make sure men like him stay away from you!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah well, next time let me run my own life okay? Seems to me like it's the blockers that get to have all the fun," Rachel pouted as she eyed the small bruise on Kurt's neck.

"I can't believe you're taking his side," Kurt muttered, staring at Blaine with distaste. Blaine swallowed hard at Kurt's glare, then looked away to hide his sorrowful expression.

"And I can't believe you aren't. I thought you were kinder than this Kurt. Blaine's heart is obviously breaking right in front of you and you don't even give a shit," Rachel chided, clearly disappointed in her best friend.

"Well, now what? Where do we go from here?" she asked sadly. At that moment a sharp knock sounded at the door in the sitting area. Kurt stood up from the chair and brushed himself off.

"To prison," Kurt answered briskly and went to the hallway door. Kurt returned to the room with four policemen, to find Rachel sitting up in her bed with a journal in her hand and no Blaine Anderson in sight.

"Why, hello officers! Is something the matter?" Rachel questioned innocently.

"Oh, cut it out Rachel. Where is he?" Kurt asked impatiently.

"Where is who, Kurt?" she inquired.

"Blaine Anderson," one of the officers replied as they all swept the room, looking for the man in question.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you guys are talking about. I was just about to do some journaling when you all came rushing in here," Rachel explained. Kurt took a closer look at Rachel's journal.

"Rachel, you're journaling with red lip-liner," Kurt deadpanned.

"Really? Oh yeah, I guess I am. I couldn't find a pen, isn't that silly? Well anyway, Kurt, as you can see there's nobody in my room so you can all just leave now," Rachel said cheerily. The men finished their search and begrudgingly left the room. Kurt left right behind them, casting one final glance around the room and a final glare in Rachel's direction before closing the door shut. Rachel jumped out of bed and went to the open bedroom window, looking along the rooftops.

"I sure hope that was enough time Blaine," she whispered into the darkness.

XXX

"Rachel, you're journaling with red lip-liner."

Blaine laughed quietly at Rachel's quick thinking from his perch on the rooftop of the Vertaine. He certainly owed her one for helping him out of this situation. Of course, Blaine couldn't pay back any favors he owed if he was caught now. Blaine snuck toward the other end of the rooftop and skillfully leaped across to the adjacent building. He paused, taking a deep breath to smell the crisp night air. Even after all these years, Blaine still felt at home on the rooftops.

His eyes swept his new surroundings, trying to determine his next move. He spotted the building's fire escape and approached it quietly. He quickly climbed halfway down the rickety structure before jumping off onto the next roof. Blaine turned around and gave one last look at the Vertaine. From where he was standing, Blaine could clearly see Rachel looking out her window. He saw her mutter something, but Blaine was horrible at reading lips. He turned to go, but some movement he caught from the corner of his eye caused him to stop. Blaine watched with a heavy heart as Kurt Hummel emerged onto the balcony outside his room. He had a drink in his hand which Blaine watched him down in one gulp.

So much for not needing to drink tonight, Blaine thought sadly. Blaine finally turned around, unable to stare at Kurt without feeling a sick sense of betrayal. He then made his way toward the rooftop's side, stealthily shimmied down the drain pipe and disappeared into the night. What Blaine failed to see was Kurt throwing his glass down in a rage and collapsing onto the railing, his shoulders shaking with sobs, as the broken remains of the glass reflected the state of both of their hearts.

XXX

Kurt Hummel woke up from the worst night of his life with the worst hangover he'd ever had. He slowly opened his eyes only to close them again after finding out that the excruciating sunlight only caused his head to throb. He managed to make it to the bathroom with his eyes shut before he finally had to open them again. He groaned when he saw his reflection. His eyes were puffy and swollen from crying himself to sleep and his face was still flushed from the amount of alcohol he consumed after Blaine disappeared. He scowled when he noticed the dark bruise on his neck, an ugly reminder of Blaine that he couldn't simply wash away. Kurt sniffed as he remembered the moment when he woke up alone to the sound of Rachel's shrieks. Blaine never cared for either of them; he only wanted Rachel's jewels. Kurt was just a bonus prize that he couldn't pass up.

"God, you're an idiot," Kurt muttered angrily at his reflection.

The bathroom lights only intensified Kurt's headache and Kurt rubbed his temples to try to stop the pain. He needed coffee…or a cold shower…or a cold coffee shower. Whatever worked. Kurt decided he wasn't fully awake enough yet to try a shower so he shuffled out of the bathroom and to the door that led to Rachel's room with the hopes that Rachel had already brewed come coffee. He tried the door handle, only to find that it was locked. Kurt frowned. Rachel never locked this door. Kurt knocked lightly, but received no response from Rachel. He knocked a little louder.

"Who is it?" Rachel called. Kurt stared at the door in disbelief.

"Rachel! Who the hell else could it be? This is the door that connects our rooms!" Kurt yelled. There was a pause before Rachel responded.

"I'm sorry Kurt, but I cannot let you in at the moment. I'm too upset with how you acted last night," she said swiftly. Kurt replied by giving the door a brutal kick and letting out a scream of frustration, which didn't help his headache one bit. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his forehead resting on his knees. It wasn't long until the tears that Kurt thought he had run out of last night came back. Kurt heard the door unlock, but he didn't look up, not even when he heard it open. Rachel kneeled down in front of him, a look of concern etched across her face.

"Kurt?" she asked timidly, gently grabbing one of his hands. Kurt lifted his head and stared at Rachel with a miserable expression.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Kurt shook his head.

"Not really, no" he whispered in a way that made Rachel's heart ache. She gave him a small hug and stood up to leave.

"Do you at least want some coffee?" she offered. Kurt nodded. Rachel smiled sadly and left to get some. She returned quickly and gave Kurt a full coffee mug. Kurt accepted it immediately and drank it greedily. He finished the cup in a few seconds and leaned his head back against the wall with a sigh.

"Kurt," Rachel began. "Don't you think that, maybe, you were a bit too harsh with Blaine last night?" she suggested. Kurt snorted.

"No Rachel, I really don't. He played us both. Don't you see that? I mean, you didn't even know his real name until he had no choice but to tell you. We didn't mean _anything_ to him," Kurt said bitterly.

"I don't know about that Kurt. Blaine seemed extremely upset last night and I don't think he was acting. And trust me, I know when someone is acting," Rachel finished.

"He played us both for fools," Kurt replied sorrowfully.

"Kurt, they were _my_ jewels. I don't care that they were stolen. I'm sure Blaine didn't do it, but why should you care if he stole them anyway?" Rachel asked.

"Because he didn't just take your jewels Rachel," Kurt whispered brokenly. Rachel immediately enveloped Kurt into another hug and held him tightly.

"Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry. I should have noticed how upset you were last night and been there for you," she said, berating herself.

"S'okay," Kurt mumbled into Rachel's shirt.

"No, no it's not," she sighed, still holding Kurt as he stained her blouse with tears. Rachel looked toward the windows and hoped that wherever Blaine was, he would clear his name and eventually come back to the man whose heart he had stolen.

XXX

Police commissioner Louis Dujardin hated noise. Absolutely abhorred it. In fact, his favorite part about being commissioner was not the pay or being in charge. No, the best part about being commissioner was his quiet office, with a nice and very useful door. However, not even his office could cancel out the chaos that was currently happening at the station. And all this bedlam revolved around one person: Blaine Anderson. He had disappeared after he pulled the Berry heist and hadn't been seen for two days. Well, he hadn't been seen officially. All day the phones had been ringing with people who called in to say that they had spotted the thief, and every single person had called from a completely different part of the Riviera. Needless to say, the commissioner was frustrated. He tried to block out the sound of the phones and get back to writing the statement he was going to release to the press. After about five minutes, he finally gave up trying to get any work done and grouchily marched out of his office.

"May I have everyone's attention please?" he called, his voice towering over all the noise. Every officer stopped and looked at their boss.

"Alright, so I know that it's been hectic these past couple of days and I just want to thank you all for bring so focused on this case in addition to the other cases you are working on. That is why I'm making our number one priority catching Blaine Anderson. I need half of you guys manning the phones and recording possible leads. I need the other half out on the streets and asking civilians if they've seen him. If we don't catch him in the next 72 hours, we may as well give up. I highly doubt he's planning on sticking around for very much longer," the commissioner finished. The officers then returned to work, with most of them leaving the station in hopes of catching the criminal themselves. The commissioner sighed and went back to his office. Wherever this guy was, he hoped his officers would nab him and quick. If there was anything the commissioner hated, it was an unsolved case, and he was determined to close the Warbler case and put the perpetrator behind bars.

XXX

Business was bad.

Will Schuester blamed it on the constant police presence and the fact that very few customers came to dine other than his regulars. Will knew the cause of his problem; and that "cause" happened to be missing for three days. Will swore, as yet _another _police officer entered his restaurant. How many times did they have to show up until they realized Will wasn't hiding Blaine in the pantry? Will begrudgingly left his office to greet the man.

"Hello sir, what can I do for you today?" Will questioned, shaking the officer's hand.

"Hello Mr. Schuester, I'm sure you know why I'm here. Has Blaine Anderson turned up lately?" the man asked. Will scowled.

"Not since you guys came in around ten minutes ago," Will replied sharply.

"Look Mr. Schuester, we know you helped him escape a couple of days ago. That's enough for us to pop in once in a while. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check your kitchen and maybe interrogate a few of your employees," the officer said gruffly. He pushed past Will and looked in every nook and cranny of the kitchen. Seeing no sign of Blaine, the man huffed angrily and walked back to Will.

"Find anything?" Will smirked. The man shook his head.

"Not now, but don't think we won't be back," the officer declared before exiting the restaurant.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," Will muttered under his breath. He went back into his office to try to determine how long his business could last with Blaine Anderson at large.

XXX

"Oh, for the love of God!" Santana shouted as the doorbell rang for the third time this morning. She marched over to the front door and flung it open, surprising the two young officers that stood outside.

"What?" she snapped, causing both men to flinch.

"Erm, a-are you Miss Lopez?" one of them asked timidly. Santana quirked an eyebrow and said nothing in response.

"O-okay well…if you are, we're just here to see if we can come inside and ask you about-" the same man continued before Santana held up a hand to silence him.

"Let me guess, you're here to ask me about Blaine, right? Well, let me answer all of your questions with this statement: I don't know where Blaine is, I haven't known for four days. No, he hasn't called me, and no, he hasn't shown up at all. Now I realize saying all of this is pointless considering you're just going to show up again in about two hours, but what can I say, I'm a generous person. Now, I know you don't have a search warrant or any proof that he's here, so if you could kindly get off this porch before I use up all of my hospitality and decide to remove you from the premises myself, I'd greatly appreciate it," Santana said cheerily, the fake smile on her face clearly stating she meant business. The men paled and shifted uncomfortably at Santana's warning.

"Okay ma'am, we'll go. Just make sure you call the police if he turns up," the other officer ordered.

"Don't worry, you'll be the first to know," Santana assured them before slamming the door in their faces. She went to the window and warily watched them return to their car and drive away. Santana let out a breath in relief, glad she was able to scare those particular officers away. She doubted she was going to be this lucky next time. She walked over to the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries she had just set down before she had been rudely interrupted. As she was removing the bag's contents she noticed a slip of paper attached to the second bag. She delicately removed the note and read it.

**Blaine, stay away from the Jones residence tonight. **

**It's my night to perform, not yours.**

Santana dropped the note in surprise. Who had attached this note? It hadn't been there when she left the kitchen to answer the door. Whoever left that note must have snuck in the house in that short amount of time. The question was: who?

At that moment Santana heard a rustle coming from the living room. She frantically looked for anything she could use to defend herself. She picked up the small frying pan that had been in the sink. Santana tiptoed through the kitchen and cautiously poked her head into the living room.

"Hello?" she called out. She received no response.

"Well Santana, what did you expect? For the crazy dangerous intruder to suddenly jump out and introduce himself?" she muttered to herself. She stepped into the living room and noticed the door to Blaine's room on the second floor was slightly ajar. Santana frowned. She definitely remembered closing that door before she left this morning. She slowly made her way up the stairs and grasped the doorknob. She exhaled slowly and swung the door open, raising the frying pan with full intent of using it.

"No, Santana! It's me!" a familiar voice panicked. Santana gasped in surprise and instantly dropped the frying pan.

"Blaine!" she exclaimed before enveloping him into a tight hug. She eventually pulled away, but not before giving him a sharp smack on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" he complained.

"That was for not letting me know that you've been alright these past four days. I've been worried sick about you Blaine! It's been terrifying reading the papers and wondering if your death is going to be the top story!" Santana yelled. Blaine smiled at Santana's concern and hugged her again.

"It's good to see you too Tana," Blaine said. Santana chuckled at her friend before remembering why she had entered Blaine's room in the first place.

"Wait, so was it you who was making those noises I heard earlier?" she wondered aloud. Blaine's cheery face changed into a more serious one.

"So you heard that noise too huh? Glad it wasn't just me," he said.

"Blaine, do you think someone was in the house?" Santana asked. Blaine nodded before exiting his room.

"Whoever it was must've escaped through my bedroom window. Has anything been taken?" Blaine inquired.

"No, not that I've noticed," Santana answered. Both surveyed the rest of the house and found everything accounted for. Blaine huffed in frustration.

"Did they leave anything?" he asked. Santana thought a moment before snapping her fingers.

"Actually, yeah. I found this note attached to one of the grocery bags. C'mon, it's on the kitchen floor," Santana said urgently. The two quickly made their way to the kitchen. Santana picked up the note and handed it to Blaine, who read it thoroughly.

"This is very interesting," Blaine mused, before pocketing the note.

"Well? Are you gonna tell me what it's about?" Santana wondered.

"I'm afraid I can't Santana, but can you do me a favor? Call Finn and arrange a meeting between the two of us, maybe we can meet on the Swift? That would probably be best," Blaine remarked.

"Blaine, I'm not doing anything until you let me know what happened at the Vertaine," Santana stated. Blaine sighed and bowed his head.

"That's not something I really want to talk about Santana," he said.

"It may not be something you want to talk about, but it's something you should talk about. So spill," Santana ordered.

And Blaine did. He told her everything that had happened at the hotel, from the moment he met Rachel and Kurt, to Kurt figuring out who he really was, to finally ending with the theft of Rachel's gems and Kurt's accusations. He may have been a little vague on the events that led up to the theft, but Santana wasn't fooled.

"Come here," she demanded, holding her arms out. Blaine didn't hesitate to accept Santana's hug.

"I don't understand Santana, how could he not believe me?" he whimpered, his eyes beginning to tear up.

"I wish I could tell you Blaine, I really do," she whispered. She held him for the longest time, allowing Blaine to let out his sorrow. They eventually broke apart and Blaine laughed a little as he wiped his eyes.

"I'm sure this is exactly what you were expecting when you woke up this morning," Blaine joked. Santana laughed lightly and gave Blaine a playful shove.

"No, not exactly. But I've never been a fan of routine, and neither have you," she teased fondly. Blaine laughed a little, a bit happier after talking to his best friend.

"Soo, can you make that telephone call for me or what?" Blaine asked.

"Sure thing Boss, when do you want to meet the clueless wonder?" Santana inquired.

"In a few hours if that's possible, and don't forget: have him meet me at the Swift," Blaine ordered. Santana nodded in understanding.

"Gotcha. You'd better go now Blaine, I would say you have about half an hour before the next round of policemen show up," she warned. Blaine nodded and gave Santana a friendly peck on the cheek and dashed toward the back door.

"Thanks Santana, I owe you one!" he called out before exiting his home.

"You say that a lot, you know that?" she replied loudly. Santana then headed toward the telephone to make an important call. Little did she know how important it really was.

XXX

Finn stood awkwardly at the end of one of the many _many _docks of the Riviera, waiting for Blaine to show up. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while looking at every passerby to see if he recognized a familiar face. No such luck. Finn sighed and checked his watch. Blaine was twelve minutes late. This worried Finn. Blaine was nothing but punctual, and for him to miss a meeting that Blaine himself requested would be very unlike him. At that moment, Finn heard a cough from behind. He turned around to see Blaine standing on the deck of a small sailboat. Finn's eyes widened in surprise. How on Earth had Finn missed a sailboat pulling into the dock? He gazed at the pearly white boat with the word Swift painted on in a brilliant red.

"So this is what you meant by meeting on the Swift. I was really confused until Santana told me to just wait here on this dock," Finn said.

"Yeah, sorry for being a little vague. Couldn't afford to say exactly where I was going to be," Blaine explained.

"I understand man. I'm just glad you're all right. I never really believed you pulled off that heist," Finn stated as he stepped onto the boat and gave Blaine a friendly slap on the back.

"Thanks Finn, I really appreciate it. So umm…" Blaine paused and took a deep breath. "How's Rachel doing?" he inquired, not really asking the question he wanted to. To Blaine's surprise, Finn started chuckling.

"Rachel's just fine, Blaine. She's loving all the publicity this theft is getting her. Plus, she gets even more attention since she's saying that she doesn't believe you did it. She sure is something else," Finn finished with a grin. Blaine laughed, easily able to picture Rachel gladly giving statements to countless reporters.

"Kurt's been better though," Finn said suddenly, causing Blaine to look at Finn in surprise.

"W-what makes you say that?" Blaine stammered.

"C'mon Blaine, I'm not an idiot. I know you're dying to ask about him," Finn remarked. Blaine sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Finn frowned, concerned by Blaine's melancholy behavior.

"Listen man, I believe you. I really do, but I can't imagine waking up with you nowhere in sight and discovering Rachel had been robbed like Kurt did. You really hurt him dude. And I know you're going to say that he hurt you too, and I'm not saying he didn't. All I'm saying is that both of you may have to swallow your pride and apologize, even if it's not anyone's fault," Finn finished. Blaine pursed his lips and eventually spoke up.

"Did you give Kurt that same speech?" Blaine questioned. Finn nodded and Blaine asked the second part of his question.

"And…how did he react?"

Finn laughed darkly.

"He "kindly" told me to get out of his room and to not bring you up ever again," Finn said. Blaine winced at Finn's words. There were a couple beats of silence before Blaine spoke up again.

"So I guess you're curious as to why I called you," he began.

"You could say that," Finn agreed.

"I need your help. For the past three nights, I've been watching this villa that was on the list you gave me," Blaine began.

"Yeah? And did you discover anything?" Finn asked urgently.

"Yes, I did. Someone else has been watching it too. I've never seen this person up close, only from a distance, but I just know it's the new Warbler," Blaine insisted.

"Has he spotted you during these nightly excursions?" Finn questioned.

"I wasn't sure until Santana gave me this note this morning," Blaine stated, handing Finn the note. Finn let out a low whistle as he read the threat.

"So what do you want me to do about this?" Finn asked.

"I want you to contact the police and set up a trap for whomever's threatening me. Naturally I can't speak to them," Blaine muttered.

"But Blaine, this note is obviously a trap in itself. I'm sure that whoever left it means to kill you," Finn cautioned. Blaine drew his mouth into a tight line.

"Well Finn, I'm afraid I don't have any other options," he muttered darkly. Finn sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay Blaine, I'll try to set it up, but what if the police refuse to cooperate?"

"That's the one aspect I'm not worried about. The worst that can happen for them is they catch me. I don't think you'll have trouble convincing them," Blaine assured. Finn stepped off the boat and shook Blaine's hand.

"Be careful man. I'm counting on you to come out of this okay," Finn declared.

"Don't worry Finn, I have every intention of making the police catch the right guy this time," Blaine promised. Finn then left, leaving Blaine alone to figure out how he was going to catch his doppelganger in only a couple of hours.

XXX

Night fell much faster than Blaine anticipated, and before he knew it, he was positioned at the edge of the Jones's property, anticipating the Warbler's arrival. Sadly for Blaine, this only meant a_ lot_ of waiting. He glanced to his right from his position on the low property wall and looked down the cliff side upon which the estate was located. Blaine gulped at the distance to the ocean below. It wasn't that he was afraid of heights, because that wasn't true. No, it was more of a fear of falling to his death. Blaine looked away and refocused his attention on the house.

Silence filled Blaine's ears and he waited to hear any rustle that indicated the Warbler was here. For the longest time Blaine saw no movement or anything that indicated that anyone was going to show up. Just as he was about to call the whole thing off, he heard something stir from the left side of the gardens. Blaine stealthily jumped off the wall and snuck toward the source of the sound. When he got there, Blaine was disappointed to find nothing to suggest a person had just been there. He turned back around to resume watching the house.

Suddenly, Blaine felt a strong pair of arms around his neck, slowly trying to cut off his air supply. Blaine struggled against his attacker, squirming and kicking as he tried to escape. But it was no use; the aggressor easily overpowered him and Blaine felt his eyes begin to droop as he gasped for air. Another figure suddenly appeared next to his assailant, raising a rock to finish Blaine off. Blaine closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. However, instead of feeling a staggering pain in his skull, Blaine heard his attacker cry out and felt him loosen his grip around his neck. Blaine managed to scramble away and he watched as his attacker, clutching his head, stumbled backwards and tripped over the low-bearing wall, falling down the cliff and into the shallow water below.

At that moment, pandemonium struck and dozens upon dozens of police officers emerged from all parts of the grounds and dashed down the steps to identify the body. Blaine sat in the grass, taking in huge gulps of air so he wouldn't pass out. He noticed that the other attacker, the one who had unintentionally saved his life, was nowhere to be seen having escaped just before the police arrived.

When he finally felt strong enough, Blaine stood up and headed down the steps, pushing through the growing crowd in order to see the face of his would-be killer. Blaine gasped as he stared at the water and looked upon the lifeless face of Jesse St. James.

* * *

**Hi guys! I know there was a slightly longer wait for this chapter. But, to make it up to you, this chapter was my longest yet! I'm sorry for making Kurt and Blaine angry at each other, it was a necessary evil I'm afraid. I also apologize for the cliffhanger, I just couldn't resist! Anyway, I love you all for reading and reviewing! Thank you so so so much!  
**

**Best Wishes, Vintage Vagabond  
**

**I still do not own Glee...  
**


	9. Chapter 8

For the first time in many nights, Santana was confident she was going to get a good night's sleep. She hadn't initially thought so. When Blaine had returned home around two in the morning half in shock and white as a sheet, the first thought that ran through her head was that she was going to stay up all night making sure Blaine was okay. He had looked panicked and ready to hyperventilate or pass out at any second. But once he retold the events that happened, he visibly relaxed in front of her, obviously relieved that he managed to make it out of there alive. He wasn't alone in that sentiment. After checking the marks on Blaine's neck and giving him some pain medication, Santana ordered Blaine straight to bed, to which he gladly obliged. That had been a few hours ago and Santana was finally, _finally, _able to relax. Now that Blaine's name had been cleared and the Warbler case closed, Santana could look forward to a day without having to speak to the police. It was a relief to say the least.

Santana headed up the stairs for bed around four a.m. with the full intent of sleeping in for once, when she heard soft cries coming from Blaine's room. She quietly entered and saw Blaine whimpering and thrashing in his sleep, his entire body drenched in sweat. Santana swore and rushed to Blaine's side as he continued to squirm and whine.

"Blaine, Blaine, wake up," Santana whispered as she shook Blaine gently.

"N-no please, I can't breathe," Blaine panicked as his breathing became more frantic, his eyes squeezed shut. Santana shook him a little harder.

"Blaine, it's just a dream. Wake up. _Wake up_!" Santana pleaded.

Blaine's eyes shot open and he sat up with a gasp. He took deep breaths to try to calm down as Santana rubbed his back soothingly.

"Shh, Blaine…it was just a dream," Santana murmured reassuringly.

"Nightmare," Blaine corrected with a shudder. He leaned his head back, hitting the headboard with a heavy thud. Santana pursed her lips in worry before standing up.

"I'm gonna go get you a towel," Santana said as she left the room. Blaine closed his eyes, trying not to remember his nightmare but failing miserably.

_He was on a rooftop, like he normally was when he did surveillance. He had skillfully climbed up minutes ago and was taking in the breathtaking view during the quiet evening. Blaine was quickly joined by Sebastian, who usually accompanied Blaine on missions. The pair made their way to the side of the building, peering down below to wait for their instructions. Sebastian inched towards Blaine and casually put his arm around him. _

_ "Seb! Not now!" Blaine whispered sternly. Sebastian laughed breathlessly, and pulled Blaine closer, his hand toying with the waistband of Blaine's dark jeans. _

_ "Relax Blaine, we're just waiting here anyway. We can't do anything until Jesse comes by with orders. Might as well take advantage of this moment alone," Sebastian grinned. Blaine blushed and looked away shyly, still new to the whole boyfriend concept. A sharp cough from below caused Blaine to jump in surprise. He glanced down and saw the ever impatient face of Jesse frowning up at them. _

_ "Hey you two, cut it out. We have work to do," Jesse hissed. Blaine nodded obediently while Sebastian just scoffed. _

_ "If you're so intent on getting this job done, why don't you come up here and do it yourself?" Sebastian challenged. Jesse rolled his eyes. _

_ "Because I'm completely useless on rooftops. Vertigo, remember?" Jesse shot back. Sebastian smirked and turned to Blaine, but Blaine wasn't there. He had slipped away unnoticed and quietly opened the window of the adjacent building, completely disregarding his instructions. _

_Blaine snuck inside and took in his surroundings. He immediately spotted a flimsy painting that had to be covering a wall safe. He crept over to the painting and removed it, revealing the shiny surface of a combination safe. Blaine pressed an ear against the cool door and carefully spun the lock, hearing it tumble and click. It opened in a matter of seconds and Blaine slipped the safe's contents into his trusty leather bag. He closed the safe, but not before leaving a yellow feather, and placed the painting back quietly. Blaine slunk back towards the window and exited the flat. He stood precariously on the edge of the balcony and reared himself to jump when a strong hand pushed Blaine, causing him to lose his balance and plummet to the street below. _

_Blaine tried to scream, but could not make a sound. His throat felt constricted and he found it harder and harder to breathe. Blaine hit the ground with a sickening crack. He weakly felt the back of his head and discovered his curls were sticky and matted with blood. Blaine heard faint footsteps and he once more tried to cry for help but no sound came from his lips. He breathed raggedly as a figure slowly approached him. The lone figure stepped into the light and Blaine watched helplessly as Jesse towered over him. _

"_Poor Blainey, I'm afraid you've made a couple of miscalculations. I'd figure them out if I were you before you become caged again," Jesse advised before walking away. Blaine lay motionless, unable to save himself as his whole world faded to black. _

"Blaine!" Santana's voice rang out, snapping Blaine back to reality. He gratefully accepted the glass of water she had brought him.

"Here's a towel for you. You're going to have to mop the sweat yourself though. You may be like my brother, but we have to draw the line somewhere," Santana stated before exiting. Blaine laughed weakly and grabbed the towel, gently wiping his glistening face and neck. When he was finished, he saw Santana re-enter his room with a pillow and a thin blanket.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, clearly puzzled.

"I'm going to get acquainted with that oversized chair of yours," Santana answered, walking to said chair.

"No, Santana you don't have to do that. I'll be fine," Blaine assured her.

"You can't tell me what to do Blaine. You're not the boss of me," Santana replied. Blaine looked at her skeptically.

"Well, actually Santana I am-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, okay? I'm sleeping on that chair and that's final," Santana stated plainly. Blaine sighed in defeat and watched her create her makeshift bed.

"I need to go to the police station tomorrow," Blaine said quietly as he tried to settle his nerves and go back to sleep.

"How come?" Santana asked.

"Just need to let them know that the Warbler is still at large," Blaine yawned. Santana, however, perked up at this information.

"What do you mean 'The Warbler's still at large'?" Santana inquired. She received no answer, hearing only Blaine's soft snores instead.

So much for getting a full night's sleep, Santana thought glumly as she sat, now fully awake, wondering what exactly Blaine knew.

XXX

The incident at the Jones residence was the hot topic the following morning. Papers flew off the shelves detailing the event from the beginning of the stakeout to the death of the culprit, and everyone was surprised to read that the dead man was not who they thought it would be.

Kurt and Rachel were exploring some of the busier streets of the Riviera when the headline of a local paper caught Kurt's eye.

"Hold on a sec Rach," Kurt said as he maneuvered his way through the crowd and purchased an issue at an unusually busy newsstand. He walked back to Rachel, his nose in the paper. Kurt gasped, his eyes widening as he continued to read.

"What is it Kurt? You know I can't read French," Rachel pouted, standing on her tiptoes to try to read over Kurt's shoulder. Or at least look at the pictures.

"The Warbler's dead," Kurt informed her, slightly in shock.

"WHAT?" Rachel screeched, frantically trying to read a paper that she couldn't understand. "Blaine is dead?"

Kurt shook his head as he spoke.

"No, some man named Jesse St. James." Kurt looked up from the paper and covered his face with one hand. Rachel looked at him quizzically.

"Kurt, what's wrong? It wasn't Blaine. What are you upset over?" she asked.

"Rachel, I didn't believe him. I didn't believe him and now he's gone. And I am never going to see him again because he hates me," Kurt whispered miserably.

"Listen to me Kurt, if you think I'm gonna let you just give up on him, then there's no way you can claim that you're my best friend ever again, because then you don't really know me" Rachel said fiercely.

"Rachel, we have no idea where he is or where he even could be. For all we know, he's out of the country. It wouldn't surprise me, considering how many police officers were after him," Kurt pointed out. Rachel frowned and thought a moment before snapping her fingers.

"I think I know just who to call," Rachel grinned, taking out her phone and starting to dial a number. She walked away so she could hear over the noise in the streets, leaving Kurt alone to figure out how he was going to apologize to a man that minutes ago he never wanted to speak to again.

XXX

Commissioner Dujardin groaned when he heard yet another knock on his door. This was the twelfth time today. He thought solving this case would finally get him some peace and quiet, but he couldn't have been more wrong. All day reporters had barged in unabashedly, asking him all kinds of questions. Questions that, the commissioner repeatedly pointed out, had already been answered in the statement he released early this morning. The last thing he wanted was to talk to another journalist, but he reluctantly told whoever it was outside his door to come in.

The doorknob turned quickly and a very tall man entered. He stepped forward and shook the commissioner's hand awkwardly, his palm a little sweaty. There was no way this man was of the press. Dujardin relaxed and went to sit behind his desk.

"What can I do for you monsieur?" he asked. The man realized he hadn't introduced himself and quickly scrambled to do so.

"Hello sir, I'm Finn Hudson of Montral's Insurance Company. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the incident last night," Finn began. The commissioner looked at Finn, lost in thought.

"Mr. Hudson was it? Are you the same Mr. Hudson that called in yesterday with our tip?" Dujardin asked. Finn nodded.

"What interest do you have in this case anyway, if you don't mind my asking," the commissioner inquired.

"Well, actually sir, that's the reason why I'm here today. My line of work mainly involves the insuring of jewelry. And one client of mine in particular recently had her jewels stolen. So… I'm here to ask if you have been able to recover any of the missing gems taken by the thief," Finn stated. The commissioner quirked an eyebrow at the man's forwardness. Insurance agents were rarely so invested in a case.

"Well, sadly none of the missing jewelry has turned up yet," Dujardin said cautiously, not wanting to invite Finn to ask more questions. Sadly for him, Finn did not pick up on this nuance.

"Mr. Dujardin, I'm going to have to pay thousands of dollars to Miss Berry for her stolen gems, something I, not to mention my company, don't particularly want to do. But, if her gems could be recovered, I wouldn't have to worry anymore," Finn explained, desperation growing in his voice. "All I need is an estimate of how long it will take to recover the jewelry."

"Centuries," a voice piped up from the doorway. Both men looked towards the entrance to find Blaine casually leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and his eyes meticulously scanning the interior of the commissioner's office.

"It's so nice to be able to come in here without worrying about being arrested," Blaine said to no one in particular. "And may I just say commissioner, this office is just lovely. I can see why you'd never want to leave it."

"What are you doing here Blaine?" Finn asked. Blaine looked away from the numerous plaques on the wall awarded to the commissioner and instead looked at Finn.

"Oh, I was just here to congratulate Commissioner Dujardin on his capture, well kind of capture, of the Warbler last night. It was an amazing display of police work," Blaine stated, holding out his hand to the commissioner. Dujardin shook Blaine's hand stiffly.

"This has all wrapped up rather nicely, hasn't it?" Blaine mused as he meandered around the office, looking at the various knickknacks. "You've caught the Warbler, a nice story has been printed in the papers, and all the wealthy tourists in the Riviera can sleep peacefully at last. What a happy ending!" Blaine smiled, clapping his hands together. His mouth then turned into a frown before speaking again.

"But you know, I _am_ really surprised that it turned out to be Jesse. Sure he wasn't really fond of me, but I just can't believe he would do this. Poor guy. He had been trying to straighten up his life as of late, you know, after all the business opportunities in the Resistance went sour. Of course, it was always difficult for him to do any field work with his vertigo. Amazing isn't it? A man with vertigo able to scale walls and rooftops without any trouble at all…truly remarkable," Blaine said nonchalantly.

He stole a glance at the other men in the office who wore similar expressions of confusion. Not to Blaine's surprise, it was Finn who figured it out first.

"Wait, if Jesse had vertigo, there's no way he could have been the Warbler. But Blaine, if you knew that, why didn't you tell everyone last night?" Finn questioned.

"I forgot about it until after I got home," Blaine replied, choosing not to mention that he remembered it from a dream.

"Now Mr. Anderson," the commissioner began. "The report I released to the press clears your name. Isn't it enough to be able to walk around France a free man?"

Blaine pursed his lips.

"I can't say it isn't nice, but it's not the truth. I'm afraid the truth is kind of a hobby of mine. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go pay my respects at Jesse's funeral. Or at the very least, catch a glimpse of the real Warbler, who I'm sure will be there whistling a happy tune."

"Wait!" Finn called out.

Blaine stopped halfway out the door, a small smirk on his face.

"Do you know who the Warbler is?" Finn asked excitedly.

Blaine turned around and looked at Finn with a twinkle in his eye.

"You could say that," Blaine hinted. Finn smiled and let out a whoop, punching his fist in the air.

"That's _awesome_ dude! Who is it? Tell me!" Finn demanded.

"Sorry Finn, but I'd much rather catch the Warbler myself. I'm sure the Warbler is going to hit the annual bash at the Motta residence in a few days. That's my chance," Blaine explained with a wink and tried to leave again. He was stopped by a hand strongly gripping his sleeve. Blaine looked straight up at the commissioner, whose shadow alone towered over him.

"Mr. Anderson, I hope you realize that by telling me all this information, I won't think twice about bringing you down if I see you on the rooftops at the Motta estate," he warned. Blaine rolled back his shoulders and did his best to match Dujardin's glare.

"That's what I wanted to hear monsieur," Blaine answered before removing his sleeve from Dujardin's grip and swiftly exiting the office and the police station all together.

The remaining men stood in the office, shocked at the change in events. The ring of a cell phone broke the silence and Finn reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. When he saw who was calling, his face broke out into a huge grin.

"Excuse me commissioner, I need to take this call," Finn apologized as he walked out of the office. He hit accept and brought his cell up to his ear.

"Hi Rachel! What's up? Umm…yeah. Funny you should ask me that. I happen to know exactly where he's heading…"

XXX

Blaine shuddered as he approached the looming gates of the cemetery. Stone angels with crumbling faces silently judged him as he entered to pay his respects to a man who tried to kill him. It was as if they knew Blaine wasn't really there to mourn. He gazed upon the countless tombstones and mausoleums, trying not to think about how close he was to permanently residing here last night. Unlike other cemeteries that were spacious, green, and peaceful, this one was nothing but grey and gave Blaine an unsettling feeling. He definitely didn't want to remain here longer than necessary. It was so crammed, the graves were practically on top of one another, leaving almost no room for the living to walk through. Blaine meandered past the tombs, wondering exactly where Jesse's burial was being held. He needed to get there as soon as he could.

After getting lost more times than he could count, he heard the soft sounds of a familiar hymn. That had to be it. Blaine followed his ears and quickly found Jesse's service. There was a reasonable crowd circled around the casket; mostly wearing black, all wearing sorrowful expressions. Blaine squeezed through the crowd and looked at the mahogany casket that held Jesse. Blaine was still coming to terms with the idea that Jesse had wanted him dead. Especially after Sebastian told him Jesse was on Blaine's side. But, Jesse had always been conniving. Who knows if he told Sebastian the truth? Blaine glanced at the crowd and wasn't surprised to see the Resistance members all in front. Many seemed in disbelief, stunned that Jesse was truly gone. Quinn wept quietly into a handkerchief as Sebastian held onto her shoulders, his own eyes red rimmed. Blaine shrunk behind the man next to him, trying not to be noticed. It wasn't working. Every single person had their eyes on Blaine and none of them looked happy to see him. Blaine averted his eyes toward the ground and made the impression of showing remorse. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine noticed Mr. Schue slowly making his way towards him. Blaine shifted where he was standing, leaving a small gap for Mr. Schue. Will made it to Blaine's side and leaned in to speak with him.

"Devastating isn't it? I can't believe this has happened," Will murmured, trying not to be too loud and consequently interrupt the service. Blaine eyed Will's somber face and replied just as quietly.

"Yes, I'm shocked. I never thought Jesse was the Warbler."

"You know Blaine, I'm very surprised you're here at all. If I were you, I wouldn't have come to mourn the man who tried to ruin my life," Will remarked. Blaine smirked a little, his eyes facing forward.

"Well Mr. Schue, I thought you knew that I'm just full of surprises," he answered. Will said nothing. Moments passed before Blaine spoke again.

"So, did they ever recover all the things Jesse stole?" Blaine inquired. Will shook his head no.

"Not yet, but they've only just started looking. I'm sure it'll all turn up," Will guessed.

"I'm not sure if I believe you," Blaine commented as he looked towards the crowd again. Quinn had momentarily stopped crying and was giving Blaine a look that could only be described as fatal. Will saw where Blaine was looking and sighed when he saw Quinn's death stare.

"Poor Quinn. She had always been fond of Jesse. He was like a brother to all of us, but I think he always had a soft spot for Quinn. But you must know what that's like," Will commented, nudging Blaine in the arm. Blaine looked towards him, a little puzzled.

"I'm not sure I quite follow you…" Blaine said.

"That American boy, the one I saw you with yesterday, what is his name?" Will questioned. Blaine pretended to think a moment before answering.

"Kurt. His name is Kurt Hummel."

Will gave Blaine a friendly pat on the shoulder and spoke in Blaine's ear, "How lucky for you, to have someone you can love and be loved in return."

Blaine swallowed hard. Clearly Schue was uninformed about the change in Blaine's relationship with Kurt.

"When are you returning to America?" Will asked.

"I didn't know I was," Blaine replied.

"You will make a huge mistake if you let him return home without you," he said. Blaine didn't react to Will's words, his face as motionless as the surrounding statues.

"You know," Blaine started. "Why don't we continue this conversation at the Motta gala in a couple of days. You're still catering that event, yes?"

Will looked at Blaine in surprise.

"You're going to be there? But you don't have an invitation."

"Oh, I'll get one. Don't you worry about that…" Blaine smiled smugly.

"How _dare_ you?" Quinn's voice rang out over the quiet service. Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she marched directly over to him. Everyone, including the minister, had their eyes on the pair.

"How dare you show your face here, when you don't even care that he's dead," Quinn hissed, her voice full of malice.

"Now Quinn," Will said, trying to calm her down. "I'm sure Blaine is upset over this. Let's just finish the service without any more disruptions, hmm?" Will proposed. Quinn shook her head.

"You always defend him," she spat. "It's because of him that Jesse's dead! Don't you see that?" Quinn then gave Blaine a solid shove, sending him backward a few steps.

"Get out. Get out of here, _murderer_," she snarled.

Blaine's eyes blazed with anger and he was fully intent on giving her a piece of his mind. He didn't care who was watching, he'd had enough of Quinn and had officially lost his temper. But before he could say anything, Sebastian stepped forward and captured Quinn in a firm hug from behind; effectively holding her back and creating a small barrier to stop Blaine.

"I think you should go Blaine," Sebastian said quietly but firmly. His usual aura of confidence and superiority was nowhere to be found. This was the most vulnerable Blaine had ever seen him, and it was enough to convince Blaine to leave. He nodded to both Sebastian and Will and pushed through the crowd towards the cemetery entrance.

He walked slowly, trying to shake off the guilt he was feeling. What he had just done did not sit well with him. He just crashed a funeral in order to gather information. Did he get the information he wanted? Yes, but at what cost? It didn't matter that Jesse tried to kill him. He still didn't deserve his memorial to be disrupted in any way. Blaine made it outside and sat down on one of the benches at the entrance, truly ashamed of himself. Why did any of this have to have happened at all? Why didn't he just leave the country when all of this started? He could have spared so many people loss and heartbreak, including himself. Blaine sat silently on the bench, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Blaine," a voice called out to him. It sounded like Kurt. Great. Now his subconscious was torturing him too. Blaine dropped his head in his hands.

"Blaine," the voice called again, this time a little louder. Blaine lifted his head and turned it towards where the voice was coming from. He breathed in sharply when he saw Kurt sitting in his roadster about one hundred feet from where he sat. The small yet feeble threads that Blaine had used to stitch up his broken heart started snapping at the mere sight of Kurt. There was no way he could deal with any more pain today. Blaine stood up and started to walk away.

"Blaine, please wait," Kurt pleaded as he hopped out of his car. Blaine stopped and let out a long exhale. He turned around and watched Kurt tentatively approach him. Neither of them spoke for the longest time. They just stared at each other, waiting for the other to start speaking. Kurt, unable to take anymore of the stifling silence, spoke up.

"So umm, how…how are you?" he asked lamely, staring not at Blaine, but at the pavement.

"Oh I'm just grand," Blaine said a little coldly. Kurt closed his eyes and nodded. He deserved that.

"Well?" Blaine asked. "I'm sure you have something you want to say," he assumed. Kurt nodded again and gathered the courage to look Blaine in the eye. He flinched when he saw Blaine's harsh glare, but cleared his throat.

"Y-yes. I wanted to say, how truly sorry I am about what happened when we saw each other last. I had no idea what you were up against," Kurt apologized. Blaine swallowed and looked away.

"Well, if that's all you have to say, I guess I'll be on my way," Blaine declared. Kurt stared at him, completely devastated.

"Blaine, do you really have nothing to say to me?" he asked brokenly. Blaine shrugged.

"Don't think so. I'm sure you're sorry."

"You know I am," Kurt insisted. "But are you really-"

"Well, then I guess we have nothing else left to say," Blaine stated, trying to leave again.

"Dammit Blaine! I'm not going to grovel in front of you," Kurt cried out in frustration. "I admit that I was wrong and have apologized for my mistakes, but I'm not the only one who screwed this up. You did too and if you weren't so freaking proud, you'd admit it!"

Blaine scoffed.

"Really Kurt? I'm too proud? I'm in the wrong? Who was the one who refused to believe me when I was practically begging?" he asked accusingly.

"If you hadn't lied to me about who you really were in the first place, I would have been more inclined to believe you!" Kurt shot back. "You gave me no reason to think you were telling me the truth. Nothing you said about yourself was true; even your name at first, and I told you _everything_ about myself. I trusted you!"

"Oh, and you're the poor innocent man who got taken advantage of by the heartless and unfeeling criminal. Give me a break," Blaine retorted. "I told you more about myself than I had told anyone else before. I may have lied about my name, but that doesn't mean everything else was a lie."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Maybe you could have just trusted me. But I realize now, that's too hard for you and you'd rather just believe what you want to believe. Now if you'll excuse me," Blaine said sternly, his anger pulsing through his entire body.

"No, I won't excuse you!" Kurt yelled. Blaine looked at him in enraged disbelief.

"Really? And why's that Kurt? Why won't you let me leave?" he asked furiously.

"Because, if I let you walk away now, there's no way I will ever see you again!" Kurt exclaimed, his anger starting to fade.

"So? That sounds like a great idea!" Blaine declared.

"God, you just don't get it do you?" Kurt cried out, his eyes welling up.

"Get what Kurt? What am I not getting?" Blaine asked, not understanding.

"That I'm in love with you, you idiot," Kurt answered, all of the volume and anger in his voice vanishing.

Blaine's eyes widened at Kurt's words, his anger completely gone and replaced with surprise. Kurt was no longer looking at Blaine, preferring to stare at the tips of his shoes, half mortified at his own honesty and half terrified at what Blaine's reaction would be. Kurt had not meant in any way to tell Blaine that. Kurt hadn't even admitted it to himself yet, and here he was, just blurting it out. Why would Blaine change his mind about him anyway? He had just clearly stated that he wanted nothing to do with Kurt anymore. Was the "L" word supposed to drop all the pain they caused each other? God Kurt hoped so, but he doubted it would.

Blaine approached Kurt, his heart beating a little faster with each step. Before he knew it, he was standing inches away from him.

"Now that's a silly thing to say," Blaine said softly, his eyes filled with warmth. Kurt still looked down, refusing to meet Blaine's eyes.

"Is it?" Kurt asked timidly, his eyes closed, aware of how close Blaine was. Blaine gently took Kurt's hands in his own and leaned his head forward so that their foreheads touched. Kurt held his breath, encouraged by Blaine's actions, but still waiting for an answer.

"No," Blaine whispered.

Kurt opened his eyes in wonder and stared at Blaine, not believing what he'd just heard.

"W-what?" Kurt questioned, wanting, needing, Blaine to say it again.

"It's not silly," Blaine murmured, shaking his head as he dropped Kurt's hands and stepped back, regret written on his face.

"I'm sorry Kurt. You were right. I shouldn't have made you feel used. I should have told you who I was when you guessed that day at the picnic grounds. There's a lot of things I should have done. But, one thing that I am gonna do is stay right here and fix this," Blaine promised. Kurt bit his lip and nodded.

"C'mon," Blaine urged, taking Kurt's hand and pulling him along towards the roadster. "I know a great place for us to start over."

XXX

"You're kidding. Please tell me you're joking," Kurt pleaded. Blaine grimaced.

"I wish I was," he answered morosely.

Kurt simply stared at Blaine a moment before bursting into laughter. He lay down in the sand on the small reclusive beach and clutched his side from laughing so hard. Blaine pouted and drew his knees up to his chest.

"Glad to know my sheer terror amuses you," he grumbled. Kurt tried to stop laughing, only letting a few chuckles slip, then gave Blaine a fond smile.

"Just a little," he admitted. Blaine huffed indignantly.

"If that many people were yelling at you, I'm sure you would have cried too!" he said defensively.

"Blaine, you cried because everyone wanted you to open their present first at your own birthday party," Kurt deadpanned.

"I was four! Sue me!" Blaine cried. Kurt erupted into another fit of giggles. Blaine cracked a smile as he watched Kurt try to conceal his laughter. Kurt eventually sat back up and wiped his eyes. It felt so great to laugh after such an awful past few days. For the last hour, both told the other anything and everything. No question was off limits and every answer honest.

"Okay Blaine, your turn," Kurt remarked. Blaine thought a moment before he gave Kurt a grin.

"Favorite guilty pleasure movie?" he questioned. Kurt scoffed.

"Easy. Pretty in Pink," Kurt answered. Blaine smirked.

"Got a thing for the name Blaine, huh?" he teased. Kurt's cheeks reddened.

"It was a different spelling," he mumbled. Blaine laughed and rested one hand on top of Kurt's. Kurt smiled at the contact and thought of his next question.

"Alright Blaine, next question: How exactly do you know Sebastian?"

Blaine gulped. He was hoping to avoid that question, but he knew Kurt wouldn't have let the incident at the beach go unmentioned.

"Umm… we worked together in the Resistance," Blaine said. It was the truth. Not the whole truth, but still the truth.

"Okay, and did you two ever date?" Kurt pushed further.

"Hey, no fair, I already answered my question," Blaine whined, really not wanting to answer.

"It's a two-parter?" Kurt suggested. Blaine sighed.

"Fine, you win. We _may_ have dated for a while," Blaine admitted. Kurt wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"What? He was cute. In my defense, I hadn't dated anyone before him."

"I suppose I can forgive you for that," Kurt gibed playfully, giving Blaine a brisk smooch on the side of his head near his eyebrow. "Now, since you didn't _really_ answer the question the first time around, I get a bonus question."

"I guess that's fair," Blaine agreed.

"Do you _really _grow coffee?" Kurt wondered. "It's impossible to grow it in this climate you know. I looked it up." Blaine laughed at this question. Of course Kurt would have looked it up.

"Actually, yeah I do. You're right though, it is impossible in this climate. You wouldn't believe the money I have to spend on greenhouses. I'm actually thinking about starting a vineyard instead. But I love coffee too much to completely give up on it," Blaine answered with a smile. Kurt smiled back and briefly leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Alright, it's my turn to answer a question," Kurt said. Blaine was about ask another silly question, when a different one crossed his mind. He grew solemn and wrung his hands nervously. Kurt cocked his head, curious about Blaine's sudden change in mood.

"Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" Blaine asked quietly. He was so afraid of this answer, so worried that Kurt had only told him that to get him to stay. Blaine watched Kurt intently as he answered.

"Yes, yes I meant it," Kurt answered just as quietly. "May I ask my next question now?"

Blaine nodded.

"Why did you ask that question?" Kurt wondered, his eyes full of hope as he thought of what could be. Blaine cleared his throat and scooted a little closer to Kurt.

"Because," he started. "Because I wanted to make sure I wasn't an idiot for loving you too." Blaine then brushed his lips against Kurt's, needing to remember the feeling he always got when they kissed. He was delighted to discover the feeling was still there. Kurt pulled away first and pecked the tip of Blaine's nose.

"To be fair though Blaine, you're still an idiot," he teased. Blaine smiled and wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist.

"So, what's the next step for you? From what you've told me, I figure the Warbler plans to strike again," Kurt guessed.

"I agree, which is why I need a favor from you," Blaine declared.

"Okay, what do you need from me?" Kurt wondered.

"I need you to get me an invitation to the Motta gala," Blaine said.

"Alright, I can do that. It's a costume party though, you can't enter without a costume," Kurt informed him.

"What are you and Rachel wearing?" Blaine questioned. Kurt snorted.

"Well, she wants to go as Mary Poppins, but I'll be damned if I'm covering my face with soot," Kurt said, still miffed about their argument over costumes earlier that day. Blaine chuckled and gazed at Kurt lovingly as he watched the wheels in Kurt's head turn. Suddenly, Kurt gasped and turned to Blaine, gripping his shoulders excitedly.

"I know just what we all should wear," Kurt promised. "Trust me, it's absolutely perfect."

"Great! Now all I need is a plan to catch the Warbler red-handed." Blaine thought out loud. Kurt just smiled.

"Don't worry. I've figured that out too."

* * *

**I am so so so sorry that this update took as long as it did! Things have been crazy and I just didn't have the time to write. So, once again I apologize. I hope you like this latest update. There was no way I could keep those two boys apart for more than a chapter. :) Next up is the Gala _and_ we get to find out who the Warbler is! It's also the second to last chapter (yikes!). There will be two more chapters and an epilogue and hopefully before this story is finished completely I'll have the first chapter of my next story! I love you all so much for sticking with me. Thanks for reading and review if you are so inclined.  
**

**Best Wishes, Vintage Vagabond  
**

**I do not own Glee. If I did, the ENTIRE Christmas episode would have been the box scene on loop...  
**


	10. Chapter 9

The soft swell of an orchestra traveled through the air as the Annual Gala at the Motta estate was just beginning. A few couples had already emerged from their guest rooms and slowly traveled down the grand marble staircase to the red velvet carpet that led to the open courtyard where the party was being held. Trees twinkled from the small strands of lights that were carefully wrapped around branches. A stout conductor kept the musicians in time in the elegant and spacious gazebo that also served as a dance floor. Everywhere you looked, staff members, each dressed impeccably, bustled from one corner of the courtyard to the other, asking each guest if there was anything they needed.

Will Schuester and the rest of his staff hurried to and from the massive Motta kitchen, setting up the food and filling champagne flutes. Will surveyed his employees, making sure everyone was doing their job correctly and flawlessly. He frowned slightly when he noticed Quinn wiping her eyes with a handkerchief and was going to comfort her, but Sebastian beat him to it. Will watched as Sebastian squeezed Quinn's shoulder and spoke to her softly. She eventually smiled back, albeit a little hesitantly and got back to work. Will could only hope Jesse's death wouldn't be a looming distraction to everyone. Tragic as it was, they still had a job to do.

Slowly, more couples made their way to the courtyard, greeting the Mottas as they walked past them, each person wearing a more elaborate costume than the last. Many came as aristocrats, colorful layers of expensive silk wrapping each individual like an overpriced present. Others chose a more plain approach, opting to wear simple attire but donning masks in order to shock and awe their fellow party guests. One thing that remained constant though, no matter what a person chose to wear, was the continuous presence of gems. Each and every lady wore dazzling pieces that oozed wealth. From emeralds, to rubies, to the most spectacular diamonds, the worth of all those gems in that courtyard was easily equivalent to the worth of the entire Motta estate and then some.

As the parade of guests started to slow down and everyone began to mingle, an elegant couple traveled down the long hallway and made their entrance. The lady wore a midnight blue gown with the smallest of lace detailing. Her hair, pulled back from her face, was styled in curls that cascaded down her back. Her escort looked just as elegant, with his lighter blue suit perfectly reflecting both poise and wealth, right down to his diamond cufflinks. But as eye-catching as this pair was, they were nothing compared to the tall dark figure that followed them. His gunmetal grey three-piece suit was mostly covered by a long black cape that hung loosely around his broad shoulders, trailing behind him like an ominous shadow. It was the man's face, however, that caught everyone's attention. A white mask covered his entire face save for a small section of his jaw and lips, which at the moment were pursed in disdain. Mouths opened in awe as everyone watched the Phantom of the Opera make his grand entrance. Once the trio was in the courtyard, the Phantom leaned in and whispered into the couple's ears.

"Well, we're in. No turning back now I suppose," he figured. The woman smiled excitedly and clutched her companion's hand.

"Kurt, these costumes are the absolute best. I'm very glad that you picked the star role of Christine Daaé for me to portray. And you make a great Raoul as well. Oh course, I don't think anyone is going to top our Phantom here. You look positively dashing Blaine, and so mysterious as well. You're definitely going to be in the spotlight tonight!" Rachel whispered earnestly.

Blaine's hazel eyes narrowed in worry.

"Are you sure it was the best idea to make me this conspicuous Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt turned towards Blaine and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Trust me Blaine, it's all a part of the plan. From that porcelain mask, down to the lifts you are wearing in your shoes," Kurt said.

"Why again do I have to wear these lifts?" Blaine questioned wearily.

Kurt chuckled noiselessly and gave Blaine a warm smile.

"_Because_ the Phantom is supposed to be a tall, looming character, one to be feared, and it's a little hard to fear you at your regular height," Kurt quipped lightly.

Rachel giggled at Kurt's comment and laughed even harder when she could clearly see Blaine's pout even behind his mask. Blaine sighed but stood a little taller as he surveyed the party. It took him no time to spot Schuester and all of his employees gathered at the far corner of the courtyard. It took an equally short amount of time to notice the many police officers in the vicinity that, despite being in costume, still wore their standard issued work shoes. Blaine's mouth quirked into a second long smile. It seemed as though Dujardin was planning on keeping his promises. There was no way the Warbler wouldn't show up to a spectacle like this, and Blaine was determined to catch his ghost. Of this, he was certain. And getting to rub it in Dujardin's face? Well, that was just the cherry on top.

The trio mingled from group to group, making small talk and retelling old stories. Kurt had to refrain from sighing as yet _another_ lady ogled over the mysterious Phantom. Kurt knew he made the right decision in picking Blaine's costume, but this was getting slightly out of hand. And Blaine, ever the clueless gentleman, wasn't exactly discouraging his admirers. Kurt gave an internal victory cry when Blaine politely declined an offer to dance and instead made a beeline towards Kurt and Rachel, leaving his fancier with a particularly sour expression on her face.

"Would either of you like a drink?" he asked the pair.

Both nodded and the trio meandered to the bar. Kurt smiled a little when he felt Blaine's hand rest on the small of his back. Admirers or not, Blaine only had eyes for Kurt, and Kurt was more than okay with this. When they finally reached the bar, Kurt and Blaine both noticed Rachel rummaging through her purse. She quickly let out a frustrating huff and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Kurt asked.

"I forgot my aspirin. I have the absolute worst headache right now and I've been trying to power through it, but I just can't anymore. Blaine, can you be a dear and fetch my pills? I'd rather not walk up steps in these heels, might be fatal," Rachel remarked.

Both men's eyes flashed with alarm as the police officer near them turned his head at the mention of Blaine's name.

"Umm, sure Rachel. I'll be right back with them," Blaine muttered quickly as he left.

"Rachel!" Kurt hissed. "What's the matter with you?"

Rachel's eyes scrunched in confusion.

"What did I do Kurt? All I said was…"

Kurt quickly cut her off by clamping his hand over her mouth to make sure she didn't utter Blaine's name again, an action that did not please Rachel, since she still continued to speak despite her words being muffled and incoherent. It was a lost cause however, for the officer had already left to convey what he just heard to Commissioner Dujardin. By the time the Phantom had reemerged into the courtyard, every person with a pair of drab regulation shoes had their eyes on him, ready to pounce the second he did anything suspicious.

The Phantom delivered Rachel's pills and asked her to dance, an offer that she quickly accepted. Kurt giggled as he watched the pair dance for hours on end. They were easily the most entertaining pair on the floor, going from a simple two-step to an _interesting_ interpretation of the robot. It almost made Kurt want to go up and join them on the dance floor, or maybe that was just the champagne talking. Either way, Kurt was quite content to see two of his favorite people having such a great time.

The pair out-danced every other couple on the floor and didn't stop even after each guest had retired to their rooms. The orchestra actually halted mid-song, not so subtly suggesting the pair should leave. They took the hint and exited the courtyard to join Kurt in their suite, who had already retired a few hours earlier. They were so exhausted that they failed to notice the small group of officers that silently tailed them in order to find out which room the Warbler occupied. Now provided with this information, Dujardin set up a parameter around the room. There was no way Blaine Anderson was escaping without detection.

Kurt was wide-awake when the couple returned to the room and he quickly began to bombard them with questions.

"Did it work? Are the police behind you? Did you dance the entire time like we planned? Is…"

Kurt!" Rachel whispered sharply as she grasped his shoulders to calm him down. "Everything's fine. Your plan worked perfectly," she assured him.

"I do have one complaint though," the Phantom remarked as he removed his mask to reveal a very tired Finn Hudson. "Why did I have to dance so much? You know I'm a terrible dancer," he mumbled.

Rachel shook her head fondly and gave Finn a peck on the cheek. Finn visibly brightened and looked at Rachel adoringly.

"You did great," she affirmed. "I'm just happy that Kurt thought of the shoe lifts. Without them, you and Blaine could have never passed as the same height, which would have thrown off the entire plan. Great thinking Kurt, by the way," Rachel beamed.

But Kurt wasn't listening. His entire focus was on the window. Rachel walked toward him and put her arm around his waist.

"He'll be fine," she murmured comfortingly.

"What if I didn't give him enough time? What if this whole plan just doesn't work? Oh god, the last words I spoke to him made fun of his height!" Kurt realized horrifyingly. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. It had just hit Kurt how truly dangerous this entire situation was. If anything went wrong Blaine could be arrested, or hurt, or even killed, and it would be Kurt's fault. His fault for coming up with this plan, his fault for-"

"Stop it," Rachel demanded, snapping Kurt out of his mental tailspin.

"Stop what?" he asked, knowing exactly what she was going to say but needing to hear it anyway.

"Stop already blaming yourself for this, even though nothing bad has happened yet. The plan _will_ work okay? Have a little more faith in yourself Kurt, and have a little faith in Blaine too. If anyone can pull this off, he can, with a little help from us of course," Rachel smiled.

Kurt visibly relaxed and gave a small nod. He never gave Rachel enough credit for it, but she truly was the best friend anyone could have, and she was right. His plan would work and they had done their part. Now it was time for Blaine to do his.

XXX

Blaine Anderson again found himself doing his least favorite thing: waiting. Hidden from sight due to the dark looming shadow of a chimney he was positioned next to, his whole body was still, the exception being his eyes, which darted back and forth as he kept watch over the rooftop of the entire Motta estate. This was not an easy task. Dressed completely in black, the only thing that glittered in the night were his pupils, which weren't missing any form of movement. He couldn't afford them to. This was his final chance to clear his name. He highly doubted he could escape a cold jail cell if he came up empty-handed tonight. Blaine shuddered a little and it wasn't because of the cool breeze that tickled the few areas of exposed skin. He wasn't going back there, no way. He harbored no desire to be a designated punching bag or plaything again.

Blaine could distinctly hear the extremely noisy couple in the suite below him having a fight and trying very hard to break Blaine's concentration. More than once, Blaine had the urge to tell them to shut up, but determined it would be wiser to refrain from doing so. He exhaled slowly, ignoring the ruckus below him and focused on the dark roof tiles and chimneys.

For the longest time nothing happened. Not a single noise echoed off the rooftop and no shadow seemed out of place. Blaine was exceptionally bored. In order to cope, he briefly let his mind wander and little time passed before his mind made its way to Kurt.

Kurt.

What would happen after this whole affair was settled and Blaine was finally, _finally_ able to be himself completely, with no more lies or false identities to shield him? Sure Kurt knew more about Blaine than anyone, other than Santana, but there were so many things about Blaine that Kurt still didn't know, and some weren't exactly pleasant. Would Kurt like what he saw? Or did he just like the idea of falling in love with a mystery? Blaine bit his lip in worry at the uncertainty of it all. There were so many "what ifs" about them and Blaine was terrified. He never did face uncertainty well. In fact, he ran from it, just like he ran from other tough situations. He ran, hid, and then disappeared completely. He was a former thief; it was how he was taught to face problems. But could he run from Kurt? Could he run from someone he loved? From the one good thing that came out of this entirely bad situation? He didn't know, and that bothered Blaine to no end.

Suddenly, Blaine was pulled from his thoughts when a soft scuffle echoed across the rooftop. Blaine's eyes quickly scanned the shadows to find the source of the noise. Every sense was heightened and prepared for action as adrenaline rushed through Blaine's veins. Another sound, just as soft as the scuffle, reached Blaine's ears and he turned towards the source to see a black figure emerging from a guest bedroom window.

Blaine's breath hitched as he finally laid eyes on the person who had made his life hell. The figure crept from the window and crossed to the other side of the roof toward the courtyard. Blaine silently moved from his hiding place and snuck towards the figure, ducking in and out of the shadows so he wouldn't be spotted. Each step Blaine took caused his heart to race faster as he got closer and closer to the unsuspecting Warbler. His adrenaline was at a high as Blaine stood a mere ten feet away. He took another step forward and hit a loose tile, causing a small clang that might as well been a gunshot in Blaine's mind. The Warbler whipped around and spotted Blaine, but before the culprit had a chance to react, Blaine pounced.

He rushed forward and strongly gripped the Warbler's slender but solid arm. The figure struggled, trying to twist its way out of Blaine's grip, but Blaine held on. His free hand reached towards the Warbler's head, which was covered by a black face mask. But mask or no mask, Blaine knew exactly who he had captured. His fingers grazed the soft fabric of the mask before slipping it off the Warbler's head, revealing the malevolent face of Quinn Fabray. Her eyes glittered in a cruel light and her lips were curled into a disdainful sneer.

"I figured it was you the day of Jesse's funeral," Blaine hissed. "You had always cared for him even if he didn't give two shits about you. I should have realized sooner that you would have done anything for his approval, even stealing jewels and framing me for it."

Quinn said nothing. She simply glared at Blaine, still trying to free herself from his iron grip. But Blaine wasn't finished. He wanted answers and Quinn's silence only infuriated him even more.

"Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't realize it was you quicker. You're even tinier than me, just perfect for sliding through windows or air vents. In fact, I'm guessing this isn't the first time you've impersonated me is it? No, I bet the first time was in a jewelry store years ago wasn't it?" Blaine seethed, remembering those extra years in prison that he didn't deserve.

Quinn flinched at Blaine's words, confirming his suspicions. However, she refused to say a single word, her eyes filled with hate.

Without warning, a huge searchlight illuminated the rooftop, temporarily blinding Blaine and causing him to loosen his grip on Quinn's arm in surprise. Quinn took advantage of his slip up, yanked her arm from his grip, and dashed towards the dark areas of the roof, leaving only Blaine in the center of the spotlight, looking undeniably guilty.

"Anderson!" Dujardin's voice echoed from below. "Come on down, there's no place left for you to go."

Blaine looked around wildly, searching for both Quinn and a place to hide. If he could just get her in their sights, they'd realize who the real culprit was, or at least question their suspicions regarding Blaine. The floodlights were still honed in on Blaine's frame, challenging him to make a move.

"Come down Blaine, or we'll have to shoot," Dujardin warned.

Blaine wasn't listening. All of his senses were preoccupied with finding Quinn. He then spotted her, crouched behind a chimney on the other side of the roof, the slightest smile appearing on her face at the idea of finally besting Blaine Anderson.

Blaine bolted towards her location, watching her dart away while a bullet whizzed past his ear. This was about to get a lot more complicated.

XXX

Kurt's blood ran cold at the sound of the gunshot. Blaine was on that roof. Blaine was being fired at and could already be hurt or worse. In seconds, Kurt rose from his spot by the window and dashed towards the door. Rachel, who had woken with a start from the gunshot, scrambled to the front of the door, stopping Kurt from leaving.

"Kurt, we can't go out there. It could ruin the entire plan!" she hissed.

"Rachel, did you not just hear that? Blaine could be hurt," Kurt said as he tried to push past her.

However, Rachel held her ground quite well for such a tiny person.

"Even if he is Kurt, what can you do about it? You can't go up there and help him. All you could do is just stand there and watch the police try to kill him," Rachel shot back.

Kurt let out a frustrating yell and ran his fingers through his hair. Rachel just didn't get it. The person _she_ loved wasn't on a rooftop possibly bleeding or even dead. Kurt flinched as another shot rang out from above.

"Rachel…" Kurt tried again, his voice teeming with desperation.

"I can't let you go Kurt; I'm not going to let you watch the police fire at him," she answered. But Kurt noticed the smallest twinge of uncertainty in her voice and latched onto it.

"And I can't just sit here waiting for the morning paper to tell me if I'll ever get to see him again," Kurt retorted.

Again, the silence of the night was broken by the firing of a gun, but this time it was followed by a sharp cry. Kurt's heart seized at the sound. _Blaine._ Kurt looked at Rachel, whose face was drained of color.

"Rachel, _please_," Kurt begged. He couldn't just sit here, he had to do anything he could to help Blaine. Rachel nodded wordlessly and stepped aside. Kurt bolted from the room and fled down the hall, his heart pounding in his ears. He heard the clacking of heels behind him and figured Rachel couldn't just wait around either.

The other guest rooms were buzzing with conversation, having heard the noise. Many curious heads popped out from their rooms, while others made their way outside. Kurt pushed past all of them as he sprinted out to the courtyard. Policemen surrounded a large searchlight that undoubtedly was being used for locating Blaine. The policemen that weren't operating the light pointed their guns towards the roof, ready to fire at the slightest movement. Kurt spotted the police commissioner and beelined towards him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kurt yelled. "Blaine is not the culprit, he's trying to help you!"

Dujardin snorted.

"The only thing Anderson's doing up there is proving to me that he _is_ the culprit after all," he replied coolly. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"But there's someone else up there. That's why he's on the roof in the first place. If you could just cease firing at him, he could catch the real Warbler for you," Kurt insisted, his voice surprisingly strong considering how much he was panicking.

"Listen kid, Blaine has been nothing but trouble for me ever since he arrived here. He's a thief, a liar, and not worth much in my book," the commissioner snarled.

"You shoot him and I'll…" Kurt began, his emotions finally getting the better of him as tears sprang from his eyes. The commissioner just smirked.

"You better think of that consequence now because we've already hit him once. Believe me kid, Blaine Anderson is exactly where I knew he would end up someday."

Unable to stand next to the commissioner without attacking him, Kurt turned to Rachel and Finn who were huddled together watching the horrible scene unfold. Kurt approached them, putting one hand on Rachel's shoulder as she buried herself into Finn's embrace for comfort.

"C'mon dude," Finn said as the trio watched Blaine disappear on the other side of the roof. Kurt let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes as yet another gun fired. Maybe coming out here wasn't the best idea after all.

XXX

Blaine hit the side of a chimney with a hard thud, his body throbbing with pain. He clenched his teeth and gingerly prodded at his right side where a bullet had grazed his skin. Blaine hissed at the contact and drew his hand away, revealing red-stained fingers. This put a slight damper on his current situation to put it mildly. Blaine pushed the pain to the back of his mind. There was no use dwelling on it now, he had to catch Quinn. Blaine craned his neck to try to spot her without being spotted himself.

_ There. _

A mere fifty feet away and hiding from the police herself was Quinn. In her hand was a velvet pouch that Blaine just then noticed. That had to contain the jewels. He snuck towards her, but another shot rang out, giving away his position. Quinn whipped her head towards him, her eyes widening in alarm. She dashed away, running towards the edge of the roof. Blaine bolted after her, not quite caring as much for the aspect of stealth anymore. Bullets sped past him as he continued to pursue Quinn. Suddenly, Blaine gasped as a bullet struck his right shoulder. His head spun from the searing agony, but he couldn't stop moving. If he stopped moving, there was no questioning his fatality.

Blaine heard shouting from the courtyard and allowed a ghost of a smile to appear on his face as he recognized Kurt's voice from below. Although he couldn't make out his words, Kurt's tone told Blaine all he needed to hear. Knowing Kurt was there, and refusing to make Kurt watch him die, Blaine pushed forward, each step getting him closer to Quinn.

Quinn sidled up the edge of the roof before leaping onto a lower building. Upon her landing, her foot slipped and she tumbled down the roof's side, catching herself on the storm drain and stopping her fall to the ground far below. Blaine saw the situation unravel before his eyes and was quick to offer his hand to Quinn.

"Oh, pull me up!" Quinn pleaded. Blaine's stare went cold as he gazed upon the girl who tried to ruin his life.

"Drop the bag first," he ordered calmly. Quinn's face scrunched in confusion.

"What?" she asked, having no desire to drop her bag to the courtyard below. The searchlight shone on both of them, causing a cease-fire since Blaine was definitely not alone on the roof.

"You heard what I said, there's no way you can get up without my help and one of your hands is already gripping the drain. Drop the bag," Blaine growled.

Quinn's eyes burned with hate, but she dropped the bag. Blaine watched as the pouch hit the ground and all of the jewels spilled from it at the impact. There was a collective gasp from below as policemen were quick to retrieve the gems.

Blaine offered his uninjured arm to Quinn who quickly took it.

"Now help me up Blaine!" she demanded. Blaine smirked.

"Not yet Quinnie. You're going to answer a couple of questions for me first, and you're going to answer them loud enough for the entire estate to hear. If I don't exactly love what I hear…well my right side is _severely _injured, and my other arm may just give out from exhaustion. I'm relying solely on it to pull you up," Blaine warned. Quinn's eyes narrowed.

"You may as well just drop me Anderson. I'm not telling you anything."

Blaine shrugged, not too concerned with her answer.

"Fine," he said nonchalantly. "If you insist." His hand loosened its grip on Quinn's hand just enough so that she slipped a mere fraction of an inch, but it was enough to make Quinn panic.

"N-No! Please don't," she shouted, her eyes wide with fear as she continued to dangle over the edge.

"Alright, I'd say you have about a minute or two before the pain becomes too much for me to handle. So my first and only question, who are you working for?" Blaine asked.

"Jesse, I was working for Jesse just like you thought," Quinn answered quickly, waiting for Blaine to lift her up. But that moment didn't happen. Blaine only glared at her.

"Jesse is conveniently dead Quinn, and yet here you are, performing another job. Who else are you working for?" Blaine questioned.

"No one," Quinn promised, her voice edging on panic.

"Bullshit! Who else are you working for? Who else knows my tactics, my signature? Who knows how I enter buildings and that I whistle a damn tune after a job? Who knows more about me than myself?" Blaine demanded, his voice now raised to a shout.

"It was Schuester!" Quinn cried out loud enough for the police to hear. "Mr. Schuester was behind it, now please Blaine, help me up," she pleaded.

Blaine pulled her up wordlessly, the pain in his shoulder screaming and nearly causing him to black out. He held onto Quinn and looked at her in disbelief.

"Mr. – Mr. Schuester?" he asked. "No, that can't be true. You're lying," he declared, unwilling to accept the fact that the man who Blaine always depended on was responsible for his misery.

Quinn sighed and for a brief moment felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"Believe it Blaine. Mr. Schue had this planned from the beginning. The restaurant was losing revenue and we all needed a little more money. Besides, no one was happy that you somehow managed to keep your riches and live comfortably. It was a no brainer really," she said.

"Was everyone in on this plan? Blaine whispered. Quinn shook her head no. Below, policemen were scrambling to get a ladder in order to get the pair down from the roof.

"Just answer one more question," Blaine said as the police finally ascended the ladder and began to arrest Quinn. "The night Jesse died, the night I almost died…was anyone else with him that night?" he asked.

Quinn cocked her head quizzically at Blaine's question. "Well yeah, Sebastian went with him. He said he wanted to watch over Jesse, but when Jesse attacked you, you managed to hit him with a rock. Sebastian couldn't do anything to help him…why did you ask me that?" she wondered. Blaine offered no answer. Instead he stood up shakily, made his way towards the fire escape, and slowly began to climb down.

"Wait Anderson," Quinn called. "How come you aren't sticking around to watch me get booked? It's not like you're guilty or anything,"

Blaine sighed and looked towards the courtyard where Kurt was hugging Rachel in relief. There was no way he could put Kurt through that much worry again. It was better if he just left. It was the only way to make sure Kurt stayed safe. He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a scrap piece of paper. He hastily scribbled out a message and attached it to Quinn's belt.

Casting one last glance at his beloved, Blaine slowly maneuvered down the fire escape, cringing every few seconds because of his wounds. He eventually reached the ground and made his escape, not from the law, but from the man Blaine was terrified of losing, but even more terrified of seeing hurt.

XXX

Blaine wasn't there when the police brought down the real Warbler, a blonde girl that Kurt didn't recognize at all. Kurt had been positive that the culprit was Sebastian, that smug little creep, but obviously he was wrong. The girl was formally arrested and slowly escorted to the entrance of the Motta estate, where the police cars were parked.

"I'm so glad this is finally over with," Rachel said wearily, still clinging to Finn, who was more than happy to hold her. "Kurt why don't you find Blaine so we can all go home," she urged, stifling a yawn.

Kurt worried his bottom lip between his teeth and continued to look for Blaine with no luck. Where _was_ he?

"Rachel, I can't seem to find him. I'm going to go ask the police if they know where he is. Maybe he's getting his wounds dressed or something," Kurt speculated.

Rachel gave him a sleepy thumbs up, not in anyway motivated to move from her spot at the moment.

After being shooed away by a couple of officials, Kurt finally reached a policeman who wasn't busy and was willing to talk to him.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Blaine Anderson?" he asked. The policeman looked puzzled.

"I don't know why you would be. He left as soon as the girl was in our hands. He's long gone. I don't blame him though. With how he looked, I'm sure he's at a hospital somewhere," he answered gruffly.

Kurt shook his head quickly, convinced he hadn't heard correctly.

"I'm sorry, did you say he has already left?" Kurt questioned, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yep – the only thing he left was this note that was clipped to the girl's belt. She said he put it there himself," The officer replied.

"What did the note say, if you don't mind my asking," Kurt said quickly. The officer crossed his arms.

"You sure are invested in knowing all about Blaine Anderson…any particular reason why?" he asked suspiciously.

Kurt sighed exasperatedly. He did _not_ have time for this.

"I happen to be in love with him, now may I see the note?" he asked impatiently.

"Wait," the officer said.

"You have_ got _to be kidding me," Kurt thought. He was _this_ close to just taking the note and running.

"Is your name Kurt?" he asked.

"Yeah? What does that have to do with any of this?" Kurt wondered. Jesus, all he wanted was a stupid piece of paper. He didn't realize he'd have to answer twenty questions to get it. Did the man want Kurt's life story next?

"The note happens to be addressed to someone named Kurt. I'm guessing that's you so here. There's not really anything in there that helps us anyway,"

"Then why didn't you just give me the damn thing in the first place?" Kurt screamed internally. The officer handed him the paper. Kurt gave a brisk nod to the man before gazing at the note in his hand.

Kurt's name was written in an untidy scrawl with dark red spots staining the paper in a way that made Kurt's stomach churn. He opened the note and read and then reread the two sentences that explained everything and nothing at the same time.

**I love you. I'm sorry.**

* * *

**I cannot even begin to explain how sorry I am that this update took so long. See, there's this thing called college and it sort of eats up your entire life. But still, that's a poor excuse and again I apologize for the wait. I promise you won't have to wait four months for the next update. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this installment and now you know who the Warbler is! Did you guys guess correctly? There is only one chapter left and then an epilogue. I cannot believe it's almost over. :(  
**

**Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter and again I'm so grateful that you've stuck with me after all this time... :)  
**

**Best Wishes, Vintage Vagabond  
**

**Also, I think we know at this point that I don't own Glee...  
**


	11. Chapter 10

"Ow, ow ow ow OW! God, can you be just a tad gentler with those Tana?" Blaine cried out as Santana worked to get bullet fragments out of his shoulder with a _very _sturdy pair of tweezers.

"Well, if you hadn't gone and gotten yourself shot, I wouldn't be doing this," she answered sternly, examining Blaine's shoulder. She sighed as yet another fragment came into view.

"What?" Blaine asked worriedly from his place on his bed. He tried to catch a glimpse of Santana's expression, but she had ordered him to lie still on his stomach.

"There's one more," she answered, gently squeezing Blaine's good shoulder for comfort.

Blaine closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Shit."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry B."

Blaine tightly gripped a pillow with his uninjured arm in preparation.

"Just try to make it quick and painless. I'm not a frog in a biology classroom," he muttered gloomily.

Santana chuckled.

"Frogs squirm a lot less than you do," she jibed.

"That's because they're not alive when you poke and prod them," he shot back, a little miffed.

"Mmm," Santana hummed as she positioned Blaine's right arm so she could access the sliver of bullet easier. Blaine braced himself for the incoming pain.

"Ow, owowow shit!" he yelled as the tweezers dug into his shoulder, the pain unbelievably searing.

"Got it!" Santana shouted triumphantly with a laugh.

"Is that the last one?" Blaine questioned hopefully.

Santana smiled and kissed the back of his head.

"Yep, that's all of them, but lay still. I need to clean those wounds now," she ordered as she left to retrieve the first aid kit. She returned and drenched a rag in ointment.

"Honestly Blaine, you're _really_ lucky. These wounds aren't that bad. If they were any worse, there's no way you would be here as opposed to a hospital," Santana remarked.

"No hospitals," Blaine mumbled, his voice muffled from the pillow.

"I know, I know," Santana said reassuringly. "Now, this is going to sting, okay?"

Blaine nodded wordlessly, his body tensing up as the cloth gently rubbed over his side. He hissed at the burning sensation and felt relief when Santana finally drew the cloth away and wrapped his torso in gauze and bandages. She then did the same procedure for Blaine's shoulder, debating whether or not to mention the necessity of a few stitches. But stitches required a hospital visit, and Santana figured Blaine had suffered enough for now.

"There, now you're all cleaned up," Santana stated happily. "We'll need to change your bandages probably once a day, but that's no big deal. Now, I think it's time for you to tell me why you showed up here injured and _alone_."

Blaine winced, and this time it wasn't because of his injuries.

"Tana, can I just take some pain meds and go to sleep? I kind of had a long night," Blaine mumbled.

Santana's eyes narrowed. She did not budge from her spot on the edge of the bed.

"No. Answer the question Blaine. Why isn't Kurt here? I highly doubt he would have let you come here by yourself in this condition," she declared.

"Maybe I didn't want him to come with me," Blaine countered, his face still buried in the pillow. He couldn't see it, but he could practically feel Santana rolling her eyes.

"Bullshit Blaine, just yesterday you were babbling about how excited you were about seeing Kurt again, even though it had been less than 24 hours since you saw him last. You were itching to see him; wondering what he was going to look like for the gala, where you guys were supposed to meet, how long should one wait before proposing, where should the honeymoon be, will he want kids-"

"I didn't say any of that," Blaine grumbled, flipping himself onto his back so he could properly glare at Santana.

"You may as well have!" she shot back. "You are _so_ in love with him Blaine, so don't give me that "I'm not that into him" crap. Why isn't he here?" she questioned sternly.

"Because I almost died, okay?" he shouted. "If the bullet that grazed my side had actually hit me instead, who knows if I would be here right now. My life is _never_ going to be completely safe. How long until another copycat shows up and I'm once again the suspect? What if I can't clear my name and I get thrown in prison again? What if Kurt gets accused along with me?" Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath before continuing.

"I-I couldn't put Kurt through that. What I'm living isn't the life I wanted for myself. Am I wealthy? Yes, but look at the cost. Other than you Santana, I'm completely alone, and the only reason I have you is because you work for me. I love Kurt more than _anything_, but I can't drag him down with me. I just can't. He deserves so much better than that," Blaine explained sadly, his shoulders slumped and his face buried in his hands.

Santana said nothing for the longest time. She watched helplessly as the man she had known for years, and basically considered family, break in front of her. She hesitantly moved closer to Blaine and gently wrapped her arm around his waist, careful not to put pressure on his side. Blaine curled into her embrace and continued to sob, cringing with pain every so often as he tended to cry with his whole body.

"Blaine, I need you to listen to me. In no way am I here just because I work for you okay? I'm here because we've been there for each other for far too long for me to just see you as my boss. I'm here because I care about _you_, not my paycheck," Santana assured him.

Blaine just cried harder at her words, clinging to Santana as if afraid she would disappear if he let go. Santana just held him, whispering, "It's okay, you're okay" over and over again to calm him down, even though she knew Blaine was definitely not okay.

An hour lapsed until Blaine eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion and was calm enough for Santana to feel comfortable leaving him by himself. She gently stirred him awake and coaxed him into bed. Blaine complied sleepily, but whimpered when Santana got up from the bed. Santana sighed somberly as she glanced back at Blaine, seriously considering just bringing out the blanket and sleeping in the chair again so she could watch over him; staying with him through the night to make sure he didn't have any panic attacks or nightmares. But Blaine wasn't a little kid and Santana knew he had to sort things out on his own this time. She couldn't just make his decisions for him, even if that would make both their lives easier. With one final glance around the room, Santana quietly exited and softly closed the door behind her, leaving Blaine alone in the dark with his self-inflicted broken heart.

XXX

Blaine awoke to a not so dull throbbing in his shoulder and a cool breeze from an open window tickling his bare back. He blindly reached for his phone, his hand hitting every inch of his nightstand before grasping hard plastic. He opened his eyes slightly and blearily looked at the screen. No missed calls, not that he expected, or deserved any. Blaine sighed miserably and placed his phone back on the nightstand, catching the time on the alarm clock out of the corner of his eye: 6:18 p.m. Blaine grumbled at the late hour, mad that so much of the day had already passed, but he quickly figured his body needed the rest. In fact, it still needed rest by the way it was reluctant to move even an inch, sore muscles and bruises plaguing his body in addition to his more serious injuries. Blaine carefully settled back under the covers and closed his eyes; hoping sleep would again claim him and temporarily alleviate his guilt and heartache.

"Well good morning, I was wondering when you were going to wake up," a silky voice piped up.

Blaine's eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, drawing the sheets up to his chest as he watched a tall figure casually go through the items on top of Blaine's dresser, his fingers leafing through the worn pages of some of Blaine's favorite books.

"S-Sebastian! What the hell are you doing here?" Blaine stammered.

Sebastian stopped his curious hands and turned around, an amused expression on his face.

"Why, to see you of course. And you can put that sheet down, it's not like I haven't seen all of that before," he smirked.

Blaine blushed furiously, but lowered the sheet so it draped across his lap, the waistband of his pajamas barely visible as he rested his back against the headboard. Sebastian's eyes darkened as he gazed at Blaine's red stained bandages, but in a flash the look vanished and was replaced by his signature charming smile.

"Sebastian, how did you even get- the _window_, of course," Blaine realized as he glanced at the open window that he was positive had been closed the night before. And locked.

"Yes, it's nice to know that I'm not as completely incapable of stealth work as I thought I was. I was worried I had gotten rather rusty," Sebastian confessed.

Blaine looked skeptical. He recalled that Sebastian had always known his way around a lock.

"Alright, but how on Earth did you get past Santana? I'm sure she would have heard you, especially now," Blaine figured.

"Santana left about twenty-five minutes ago to run some errands. About time too, I thought she'd never leave," Sebastian muttered.

"And you've been what? Just watching me sleep for the past twenty minutes?" Blaine asked.

"Fifteen actually," Sebastian corrected.

"Yeah. Doesn't make it any less creepy Seb," Blaine deadpanned.

Sebastian laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, I suppose not. It's just…for those fifteen minutes, you looked so peaceful, happy even, but as soon as you woke you looked…" Sebastian glanced at Blaine whose face had completely fallen.

"Like that," he finished sadly. He walked over and motioned towards the foot of the bed.

"May I?" he asked.

Blaine nodded wordlessly. Sebastian sat down and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Both sat in silence, Blaine studying his hands while Sebastian studied Blaine. Eventually the silence became too loud to handle.

"Blaine – I…" Sebastian started.

"Why did you save me?" Blaine asked, his voice so small and vulnerable.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked, taken aback by Blaine's simple but extremely complicated question. Blaine's eyes were still downcast and he wrung his hands nervously before further explaining his question.

"That night, the night Jesse tried to kill me, you were there too. Quinn told me so, but she said…she said that you told her I hit Jesse with that rock. She was positive that I killed him. Except that I didn't. You did. You hit him…why?" Blaine swallowed hard and looked up from his hands to Sebastian, his eyes shining. "Why did you save me?" he repeated, sounding so confused as to why he was alive and not in a grave that it made Sebastian's heart break.

He inched a little closer to Blaine and hesitantly grabbed one of his hands.

"Because nobody deserves to die Blaine, especially not you," he whispered, clutching Blaine's hand a little harder for support.

"You need to know that I – I never intended to kill Jesse," Sebastian swore. "I didn't mean to hit him so hard but I. . ."

Blaine watched as Sebastian struggled to find the right words to say, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. Blaine squeezed Sebastian's hand, gently urging him to go on.

"You were dying before my eyes Blaine, and I had to – had to do _something. _I couldn't just…" Sebastian shuddered, his voice cracking slightly.

"I knew Jesse would have gone through with it so that's why I offered to go with him. I said I would watch over him, but I knew…I knew I was really going to watch over you."

Sebastian laughed then, a harsh humorless laugh. Blaine's eyebrows knitted with worry at the horrible sound.

"I went to protect someone and ended up being a murderer," Sebastian finished, overcome with grief and shame.

"Sebastian, stop," Blaine pleaded. "You're not a murderer. What happened was an awful accident, but you did _not _kill him okay? You didn't want anyone to die. Not me or Jesse."

Sebastian nodded a little. Blaine scooted closer to Sebastian and placed the hand that wasn't currently holding Sebastian's on his knee comfortingly.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you. I swear, I had no idea that they were behind all of this before it was too late. I would have stopped Schuester from the start if I had known," Sebastian vowed.

"I know," Blaine said. And he did. As insufferable as he could be, Blaine knew Sebastian would not have done this. He may have been a con man, but he wasn't the type to ruin lives. "It's okay."

Sebastian let out a sigh of relief at Blaine's forgiveness and started to get up from the bed.

"Wait," Blaine called, tugging on Sebastian's sleeve and not letting go of his hand.

Puzzled, Sebastian sat back down.

"What else is there left for us to say Blaine?" he wondered.

"This," Blaine stated before leaning forward and giving Sebastian one final kiss on the lips. Blaine pulled away slowly, chuckling to himself as he saw Sebastian's face contort into one of complete confusion.

"What was that for?" he questioned.

Blaine thought a moment before answering.

"I think…this is what closure feels like," Blaine affirmed.

Sebastian gave a half-smile and nodded in understanding before standing up. He walked towards the window and was about to climb out of it before he stopped and glanced at Blaine with the sincerest expression Blaine had ever seen him wear.

"Just so you know Blaine, you were never just a number," Sebastian said softly.

Blaine smiled.

"And you will always be my first love," he replied, admitting something he had never believed before but now realized was true. Sebastian smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"But not your last," he murmured.

Blaine's heart clenched at those words.

"No, not my last," he echoed, wondering if he would see his last love ever again. Sebastian seemed to read his mind.

"He'll find you Blaine," Sebastian said as he finally began to climb out the window. "If he's as smart as I think he is, he'll find you; but you have to let him in. Don't run and throw away the one thing you've wanted but never been able to steal, or I'll never let you hear the end of it," Sebastian warned before slipping out into the night.

Seconds later, Blaine's door opened and Santana poked her head inside.

"Is everything alright up here? I thought I heard voices when I walked inside the house," she stated.

"Nope, it's just been me up here," Blaine lied.

Santana didn't look convinced. She walked in and surveyed the room. Blaine watched nervously as she made a beeline towards the dresser and examined the books Sebastian had picked up. She whirled around and placed her hands on her hips, an expectant look on her face.

"Later?" Blaine offered.

"Later," she agreed. Blaine gave a grateful smile in return.

"C'mon, I just ran to the pharmacy and picked up some pain meds for you, but I'd feel better if you ate a little something first," Santana said.

Blaine nodded and got up, throwing on a shirt without too much difficulty as he followed Santana downstairs into the kitchen.

"Figure out what you want, I gotta go out to the car and grab the rest of the groceries. No, I don't need any help," she voiced, leaving Blaine alone.

He sighed, angry that his shoulder made him so useless, but nonetheless stepped towards the pantry. His eyes roamed the shelves, trying to find something to eat. He wasn't very hungry, but his want for pain meds greatly exceeded his lack of appetite. Blaine heard a pair of footsteps enter the kitchen just as he decided that he might be able to stomach some soup.

"Okay Tana, I've chosen soup if that's-" Blaine's speech halted as he stared at the person in the doorway who was definitely _not_ Santana.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed.

Kurt smiled faintly, but didn't move from the doorway.

"Hi," he answered, averting his gaze and choosing to view the walls of the kitchen instead. Blaine, who couldn't take his eyes off the man in front of him, noticed the wariness in Kurt's demeanor and took a few tentative steps forward, closing the gap between them a little.

"How-how did you find out I lived here?" Blaine asked.

"Finn," Kurt replied. "It took some convincing, but he eventually told me about this place."

"Finn, of course," Blaine said. He had completely forgotten that Finn had been here. He took a couple more steps, ending up just few feet away from Kurt.

"I'm glad you're here though," Blaine uttered.

At this, Kurt finally stopped avoiding Blaine's face and met his gaze. Blaine's heart ached at the pain and hurt in Kurt's eyes. It ached even more, knowing that it was his fault for causing that pain.

"Are you?" Kurt wondered, his tone clipped. "Because I was under the impression that you didn't want to see me again. What was it you wrote to me? Oh yes. "I love you. I'm sorry." Five words. You can see where I might think you may not be happy to see me."

"No Kurt, of course I'm glad to see you. I love you, but you see-" Blaine tried to explain, but Kurt wasn't finished.

"Oh, well since you _love_ me, I guess everything's fine now. Never mind that I only stopped crying over you a couple of hours before coming here. Never mind that you made me feel alone and unwanted and unloved. I guess we can just press restart and forget that you left me," Kurt spat, his whole body shaking with anger.

"Kurt, you have to know that I didn't want to leave you. But you saw what happened on that roof. I could have very easily died. I left to protect you…to make sure you stayed safe. I want you to have a life where your man won't constantly be suspected of crimes or, or could be thrown in jail. That's no life, Kurt," Blaine tried to grab Kurt's hands, but he pulled away, still furious.

"Don't you think that _I_ should have the opportunity to decide how I want to live _my_ life?" Kurt shot back. "I love _you, _Blaine. I don't care about what may or may not happen. All I care about right now is the fact that I love you, but you don't love me back enough to stay with me despite the risks."

At this statement, Blaine closed the gap between them completely and cradled Kurt's face in his hands.

"Of course I love you Kurt. You have to stop thinking that I don't love you. It kills me to think that you believe that," Blaine murmured, kissing away the stray tears that had rolled down Kurt's cheeks. Kurt whimpered at the gesture, and gently removed Blaine's hands off his face.

"Then you have to stop running away from me. When things get a little rough or complicated, I need to know that you're going to stay here and not just…leave because you were uncertain or afraid."

Blaine didn't answer; he just stared at Kurt with a broken and sad expression on his face. At Blaine's lack of answer, Kurt nodded silently, realizing Blaine wasn't willing fight for them.

"Okay…I'm not afraid of being by myself, I've grown used to it over the past few years following Rachel around and whatnot. So, I'll just go if that's what you want," Kurt finished quietly.

He began to walk away when Blaine gently took one of his hands. Kurt stopped, turning his head to glance at Blaine's face, their joined hands, and back at Blaine. Blaine pulled Kurt closer with his good arm. He softly ran his thumb over Kurt's as they both stood there silently. Finally Blaine drew a small breath and squeezed Kurt's hand before he spoke; so softly that only Kurt could have heard him.

"I don't-" he paused, exhaling shakily, then trying again, "I don't want to run anymore," he confessed.

Kurt gasped and instantly enveloped Blaine into an embrace, relieved and overjoyed at Blaine's words. Blaine buried his face into Kurt's neck, inhaling Kurt's scent so deeply he felt he was drowning in it; drowning in Kurt as he wrapped his arms around him and never wanted to let go.

And then they were kissing.

Passionately and desperately, they expressed their emotions, their unspoken apologies, and everything else through their kisses. Here, in Kurt's embrace and Kurt in his own was where they both belonged and Blaine was going to do everything he could to rid Kurt of all his insecurities and fears, as well as his own, one kiss, one loving look, one touch at a time. Blaine tightened his grip around Kurt's waist and kissed harder, feeling Kurt return the pressure. Kurt whined at the change of speed and forcefully grabbed Blaine's curls, taking Blaine's lower lip between his teeth and pulling on it, causing Blaine to see stars. His shoulder and waist throbbed with pain at the sudden and passionate movements, but at that moment Blaine couldn't have cared less, painkillers be damned.

The urgency of their kissing began to slow when both realized that they had a lifetime to kiss and touch and be with each other, but this realization did nothing to stop them from kissing all together.

"I love you so much," Blaine gasped as Kurt massaged his scalp and placed a warm, open-mouthed kiss on his Adam's apple.

"Mmm, love you too," Kurt hummed, pausing his current infatuation with Blaine's neck to smile at him. "Now shut up and kiss me," he ordered playfully. Blaine giggled, clearly love drunk, and happily obliged, completely content in kissing Kurt for forever if he could.

"Alright, so what would you like-oh" Santana stopped her speech as she watched two men make out in her kitchen.

"Well, I see you found out Kurt's here," Santana smirked as the two continued, completely oblivious to Santana's presence. She stood a little uncomfortably as Blaine spun Kurt around, pressing him against the counter and continuing his siege on Kurt's mouth.

"Okay, it's getting a little weird now," Santana muttered before coughing loudly, causing them to break apart suddenly, blushing, but still wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Hi Santana, this is Kurt," Blaine said impishly, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"I know, I let him inside," Santana grinned smugly, "Now, did you decide what you wanted or would you rather just have him for dinner?" She teased, her smile widening as she watched them blush a second time.

"Umm, I decided on soup, but don't worry, I can make it," Blaine offered.

"Oh no, you already have too many injuries. I'm not going to add second degree burns to that list," Santana declared.

Blaine huffed at her words, his face contorted into a pout. Kurt giggled at Blaine's expression, which instantly softened as soon as he heard Kurt's laugh.

"You think it's funny that your boyfriend can't even make soup?" Blaine jibed before freezing once he realized exactly what he said. Kurt noticed too and gave Blaine a reassuring kiss.

"Well, I guess_ your_ boyfriend is going to have to teach you a thing or two," Kurt replied sweetly. Blaine brightened and pecked the tip of Kurt's nose. Santana gagged.

"Alright, if this is what I have to look forward to for the rest of the evening, excuse me if I don't join you for dinner tonight, or any other night for that matter," Santana grumbled.

The men broke apart to keep Santana from leaving and the three had a small meal before Blaine took his pain meds and headed up to bed, Kurt in tow, both making a point to ignore Santana's catcalls. They reached Blaine's room and Kurt smiled at the décor. It screamed Blaine, with the cozy looking furniture, the warm tones that reminded Kurt of Blaine's tea-stained irises and the countless number of worn books that Blaine quoted in moments past. The only thing missing in his mind was the personal touch of photographs, the walls rich in art, but lacking in memories. Kurt instantly made a plan to fix that.

"Well, what do you think?" Blaine asked, gesturing at his room.

"I love it. It's very you," Kurt complimented.

Blaine bit his lip shyly before asking another question.

"Do you think it could eventually be "ours?" he wondered. Kurt thought a moment, taking in the room again.

"I think that's a certainty. In fact, it may already be ours," he answered. He turned around and fell in love all over again when he saw the look Blaine was giving him. Like he was the only thing that would ever matter.

"I-I need to go downstairs and get a few things. I can't exactly sleep in this. I'll be right back," Kurt promised, exiting the room and heading down the steps. He found the foyer without too much difficulty and grabbed his small overnight bag; the rest of his things would have to be picked up later. He turned around and headed back to Blaine's room when he ran into Santana.

"Oh, hi Santana," Kurt greeted.

"Hello Kurt."

Santana eyed the suitcase and gave him a devilish grin.

"Didn't think you'd be needing that yet," she goaded. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Don't be lewd, Santana. I'm perfectly content in just caring for him, thank you very much," Kurt retorted, fully expecting Santana to answer with a biting comeback. What he didn't expect was for Santana's expression to soften and for her to give him a brief hug.

"I think we're going to get along just fine," she said before heading up the stairs into her own bedroom. Kurt cocked his head, intrigued by Santana's words before opening the door to Blaine's room and stepping inside. His mouth went dry as he watched Blaine quickly pull down his shirt to hide his bandages and bruises, but Kurt didn't miss them. He set his bag down and gingerly approached him.

"May I see?" he asked softly, his fingers just under the hem of Blaine's shirt.

Blaine hesitated, worried that his ugly bruises and wounds would turn Kurt away. Kurt noticed Blaine's hesitation and quickly realized what was causing him distress.

"Hey," he started, lovingly tilting Blaine's chin up so he would look at him. "I'll still love you. No matter how you look," he vowed. Blaine sniffed a little and nodded.

"Okay," Blaine eventually whispered, his hands guiding Kurt's as he removed his shirt. Kurt gasped at the ugly red-stained bandages and dark bruises that marred Blaine's body.

"Oh Blaine," Kurt sighed, broken up over the sight of his injuries. He kissed a particularly large bruise on his collarbone. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut, his dark lashes kissing his cheeks. He blindly found Kurt's hair with his hands and gently ran his fingers through it as Kurt continued to kiss his injuries.

"Do you need to change your bandages?" Kurt wondered.

Blaine grimaced.

"Probably, but I'll just get Santana to change them in the morning."

"Can I try?" Kurt asked. "I-I'm sure Santana's more qualified than I am, but it kills me to see you in such pain and discomfort, and I want- I want to help."

Blaine gently grabbed Kurt's hands that were frantically hovering over Blaine's torso and shoulder and kissed him soundly, touched by Kurt's concern and desire to care for him.

"Okay," he agreed, walking over to his dresser and pulling out the bandages, gauze, ointment, and rags out of the dresser. He then sat down on his bed, gesturing Kurt to join him. Kurt sat down, nervously eyeing Blaine's wounds.

"I-I don't want to hurt you even more," Kurt worried.

Blaine laughed softly.

"I doubt that's even possible," he stated wryly. Kurt frowned at Blaine's nonchalance at his injuries.

"You'll be fine Kurt," Blaine said reassuringly.

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. His fingers nimbly unwrapped the old bandages around Blaine's waist until the wound was visible. Kurt's eyes widened at the red irritated skin.

"Holy shit Blaine, why aren't you in a hospital?" he asked alarmingly, gently skimming his fingers along Blaine's side.

"Because I don't like them?" Blaine suggested. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I don't think anyone _likes_ hospitals," he pointed out as he covered a rag in ointment. "God Blaine, this looks really bad," Kurt worried.

"Then you should definitely not look at my shoulder," Blaine joked dryly, his laughter fading when Kurt shot him a dark look. He didn't say anything more as Kurt worked meticulously, gently cleaning the abrasion and kissing his skin whenever Blaine tensed up or winced in pain, making sure to give just as much attention to the bruises Blaine so despised. Blaine's breathing grew labored as he watched Kurt's every move, the entire situation becoming extremely intimate. He slowly carded his fingers through Kurt's hair, his hand eventually cupping his cheek. Kurt looked up from Blaine's newly bandaged torso, his face flushed from the loving touch. He leaned his face into Blaine's caress briefly before starting work on Blaine's shoulder.

"Kurt, it's fine, just leave it till the morning," Blaine assured him. Kurt scoffed at his answer.

"You're just saying that because you're being influenced by strong painkillers," Kurt quipped.

"Nnno, that's not true. I feel great. C'mon, just lie down with me," Blaine pouted, albeit a little groggily.

Kurt smiled at Blaine's sleepiness. It was adorable to say the least.

"Blaine, I really don't like how red the bandage on your shoulder is. Stay still, I'll try to be quick," Kurt promised.

Before Blaine could protest, Kurt was unwrapping the other bandage. Blaine heard Kurt's gasp and figured his shoulder didn't look any better than it did eighteen hours ago. Kurt was quick to clean and re-dress the bullet wound, lightly kissing Blaine once he was finished.

"I'm so sorry you're hurt," Kurt mumbled into his shoulder. "This shouldn't have happened."

Blaine shrugged.

"But it did, so there's no point dwelling on it. Besides, it's not like it will never heal. But," Blaine paused a second. "I would be lying if I said there wouldn't be a couple scars."

"Mmm," Kurt hummed, nuzzling Blaine's neck. "That's okay. Scars are hot," he declared making Blaine laugh before getting up and retrieving his pajamas out of his overnight bag. Blaine smiled warmly at the domesticity of it all as Kurt shyly slipped away to the bathroom to change. He was still partially convinced that none of this was actually happening and he would eventually wake up alone. He had half a mind to ask Kurt to slap or pinch him when he got back to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Blaine sighed happily and turned down the covers so he could let the painkillers do their job.

He was close to drifting off when he felt a dip in the mattress as Kurt joined him under the covers. Blaine flipped over so he was facing Kurt, encircling him in his arms, drawing him closer. Kurt smiled faintly, almost unnoticeable in the dark, and lazily traced imaginary patterns on Blaine's chest, humming quietly as he watched Blaine slowly fall asleep. When Blaine's eyes finally closed, Kurt stopped humming, tenderly kissing Blaine's forehead before settling himself in Blaine's arms.

"Please be here when I wake up in the morning," he whispered, fear and worry evident in his voice.

Blaine, who had not quite fallen asleep, felt his heart clench at Kurt's heartbreaking words. He tightened his grip and gently nosed at Kurt's hairline.

"Always," he murmured. He felt Kurt shift and rest his head into the crook of Blaine's neck, his body draped over his lover's.

"I love this place," Kurt breathed. "It's so warm and inviting and…and _you_ and definitely _not_ a hotel room."

"Yes, because when I come home, the first thing that comes to my mind is "I'm not in a hotel," Blaine smirked.

"Oh shush," Kurt chided. "Besides, I'm not the only one who's going to love it here."

"Oh really?" Blaine grinned, his hand slipping up under Kurt's shirt, rubbing slow continuous circles along the small of his back, causing Kurt to practically purr in contentment.

"Mmhmm, Rachel is just going to love it here too," Kurt replied.

Blaine's hand stilled.

"Wait… what? Rachel's going to be living here?" he asked, his dreams of a quiet and peaceful life shattered in a sentence.

"She is. I'm very excited, aren't you? Well, I've kept you awake long enough and you need sleep. Goodnight love," Kurt remarked, snuggling closer to Blaine.

"Goodnight," Blaine replied. He was just about to fall asleep when a factor concerning Rachel's pending arrival crossed his mind. A factor that took the shape of a no-nonsense Latina currently sleeping down the hall. Blaine shuddered at the mere thought of the unavoidable conflicts to come.

"I hope you're not too attached to your best friend," Blaine whispered to the sleeping form lying on top of him. "Because I don't think she's going to last two months here. Not if _my_ best friend has anything to say about it."

Kurt stirred a little at the sound of Blaine's voice, fisting Blaine's shirt in his hand and nosing at Blaine's collarbone.

Blaine's heart swelled as he watched Kurt sleep, content to forever hold this man in his arms every night and equally elated to hold him when he woke up every morning.

* * *

**Hi everyone! I'm so happy that I was able to get this chapter to you within a reasonable amount of time. I really hope you enjoyed it and as always, I appreciate your kind reviews. I'm so touched that so many of you have followed along and I'm so sad that it's almost over! Just an epilogue left and that's it! **

**As always, Best Wishes!  
**

**Vintage Vagabond  
**


	12. Epilogue

The morning was calm and quiet as sunbeams illuminated the bedroom. Patches of light warmed Blaine's bare skin as he slept, snoring lightly, a smile pulling at his lips. A soft sigh escaped him as he slowly and unwillingly awoke from a dream. He reached his hand across the bed for Kurt, only to feel cool sheets beneath his palm. Blaine frowned and cracked one eye open. The other half of the bed was empty, much to Blaine's confusion and dismay.

He groggily got out of bed and peeked into the bathroom, figuring Kurt was in the middle of his morning skin routine. Seeing that the bathroom was empty as well, Blaine frowned even more. He exited the bedroom and sleepily padded down the steps into the main room. Blaine's ears perked up at the sound of someone singing in the kitchen, a voice that Blaine would know anywhere. Smiling to himself, he quietly entered the kitchen, resting his head on the doorway as he fondly watched Kurt maneuver around effortlessly, extremely familiar with his surroundings.

Kurt was unaware of Blaine's gaze as he swiftly removed ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator, still in his pajama pants and his hair in disarray, much to Blaine's surprise. Blaine moved from his place at the doorway and snuck up behind Kurt, wrapping his arms around Kurt's bare waist and amorously leaving a trail of kisses up Kurt's spine. Kurt stopped his movements and grinned as Blaine hooked his chin on top of Kurt's shoulder, his breath ghosting over Kurt's ear.

"Morning Blaine," he chirped, resting his hands on top of Blaine's and leaning back into him.

"G'morninglove" Blaine murmured into Kurt's skin, his lips tickling the fine hair at the nape of his neck. Kurt shivered at the contact and turned his head to hide his blush.

"What are you doing up so early? It's before nine, you do know that right?" Kurt wondered. He moved his hands off of Blaine's and resumed slicing the strawberries and peaches he had retrieved from the refrigerator before he had been delightfully interrupted.

Blaine groaned and buried his face deeper into the crook of Kurt's neck.

"Yes, it's very early; which is _why_ you should come back to bed with me," he mumbled, taking a few steps backward and gently pulling on Kurt's torso to take him back to their room. Kurt wriggled out of Blaine's grip and continued prepping breakfast, choosing to ignore Blaine's cute pout, but not without a great deal of effort.

"Blaine, if you're so tired, then go back to bed. I'm not holding you here hostage," Kurt pointed out, walking towards the pantry and retrieving the sugar.

"But your side of the bed is _cold_. I don't like that," Blaine whined.

Kurt sighed and stopped measuring the sugar, realizing he wasn't going to get anything done with Blaine here. He turned around and quirked an eyebrow at his boyfriend; taking in his appearance. Blaine's too big sweatpants completely covered his feet and his curls stuck out in every direction. It was official, Kurt was in love with a six year old. He crossed the kitchen in a few steps and linked his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine kissed him sleepily, his lips soft and pliant. Kurt broke away and leaned his forehead against Blaine's.

"Blaine, you _are _aware of today's date, right?" he asked.

Blaine pulled his head back and scoffed.

"Of course I know what today is. I just don't know why waking up before nine is necessary."

Kurt tsked and crossed his arms.

"I just thought it'd be nice to make some breakfast before she leaves," he remarked. Blaine smiled sweetly at Kurt's thoughtfulness.

"Of course it's a nice idea dear. I'm sure she'll love it," Blaine promised. Kurt beamed at the compliment and walked back to the counter with Blaine at his heels. Blaine watched on as Kurt continued to measure, slice, and mix ingredients with ease. Suddenly Kurt stopped and turned around, fixing Blaine with a kind, but firm stare.

"Blaine, as much as I love you here, you're _really_ distracting. Are you sure you don't want to go back to bed or maybe pour yourself some coffee and sit down at the table?" Kurt suggested.

Blaine bit his lip and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Can I, can I help?" Blaine wondered.

Kurt blinked owlishly at him for a second as he tried to think of something for Blaine to do. He then gripped Blaine's shoulders and spun him around so he faced the counter.

"If you could go over there and finish up slicing those strawberries and peaches, that'd save me some time," Kurt remarked.

"And you trust me with knives?" Blaine asked skeptically, glancing at Kurt out of the corner of his eye.

Kurt chuckled and pressed his lips against the scar on Blaine's shoulder that he adored so much.

"More than I trust you with a flame. Now scoot!" Kurt ordered, slapping Blaine's behind playfully. Blaine barked out a laugh and padded to the counter.

"So what are you making?" Blaine asked while carefully cutting the fruit.

"_We're_ making crepes," Kurt answered, moving from the counter to the stove and kissing Blaine's cheek as he walked by, the distracting action almost costing Blaine a thumb.

The pair worked silently after that, mainly due to Kurt's fear that any more interruptions _would_ cost Blaine a finger. Eventually, both finished their part of the cooking and together assembled the crepes, Kurt's hands over Blaine's as he helped him fold the thin dough and cover it with fruit.

"There, all finished. Thanks for the help babe," Kurt said fondly. Blaine lit up at Kurt's words, pleased that he was able to help without actually causing any major problems and nicking his thumb only once.

"So," Blaine began mischievously, drawing out the "o". "She's not up yet, and who knows when she will be…how do you want to pass the time?" Blaine wondered, the innocence in his voice fooling no one and the glint in his eye giving away his motives.

Kurt pretended to think a moment, a smile playing at his lips as he tapped his cheek with his index finger.

"Hmm, I _may_ have an idea or two," he eventually replied, sliding his hands down Blaine's back slowly stopping at the dimples above his rear.

"Or three," he breathed, mouthing along Blaine's jaw that had the smallest of scruff on it. He moved up and gently licked the shell of Blaine's ear.

"Or four."

Blaine whined, unable to stand Kurt's teasing anymore. He cupped Kurt's face in his hands and kissed him deeply, shuddering as Kurt tilted his head and slipped his tongue into Blaine's mouth. Blaine moaned at the sensation, very happy he decided to get up this morning and _god_, if mornings could be like this, why did he ever dislike them in the first place? He slipped his hands down Kurt's backside, strongly gripping Kurt's thighs and hoisting him on top of the counter. Kurt responded enthusiastically to Blaine's actions, digging his heels into Blaine's back to draw him closer and leaning his head down, colliding his forehead against Blaine's with a laugh, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"Why in the world are you two up so early?" Santana wondered as she entered the kitchen. She paused, eyeing the pair suspiciously as Blaine helped Kurt hop down to the floor, both of their lips red and a little swollen. She shrugged and rolled her eyes as she dragged numerous pieces of luggage into the room.

"It's not like I've caught you two in _worse_ positions or anything," she muttered to herself.

"Morning Tana, we made you breakfast!" Blaine remarked, obviously quite proud.

"We? Okay Hummel, how much of this is your work and how much his?" she questioned, eyeing the plate warily.

"80-20," Kurt answered. Blaine nodded in confirmation.

Santana relaxed and grabbed a plate.

"Thanks for making breakfast guys. I thought I was going to have to grab a bagel at the airport or something," she said between mouthfuls of crepe.

"Well, this is our last morning with you for a while and we wanted it to be more than a bitter cup of instant coffee and some toast," Kurt remarked, as both he and Blaine grabbed some breakfast for themselves and joined her at the table.

"That's very sweet of both of you. I'll ignore the fact that it's the least you could do after allowing Berry to live here for as long as she did," Santana said. "Thank god she landed that acting job back in New York and is living with that Frankenstein-esque insurance agent. Precisely why I'm not going to the States for my vacation by the way."

Kurt ducked his head, fully engrossed in his breakfast while Blaine gave her a disapproving look.

"C'mon Santana, she only lived here for five months," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and it's taken three months for me to calm down," she retorted, stabbing her crepe a little too forcefully for Blaine's liking, making him doubt that she had completely recovered.

"Tana, at one point Kurt found you trapping Rachel in a corner with a stiletto," Blaine deadpanned. "I think she was more uncomfortable with you here, instead of vice-versa."

Santana waved her hand in dismissal.

"Too bad for her then, I came with the house," she added before dropping the matter for the rest of the meal. Eventually they all finished and chatted amicably until there was a knock on the door, signaling that Santana's cab had arrived. The men scrambled to pick up Santana's luggage, despite her protests, and helped load it into the cab. Santana sighed and smiled at the two a little sadly.

"I know I will love Greece as soon as I step off that plane, but I'll miss you two these upcoming months," she confessed. Blaine smiled warmly and engulfed his best friend in a tight hug.

"We'll miss you too Tana," he said fondly, lightly pecking her cheek.

Kurt stood a little awkwardly, unsure on how he should say his goodbye. Santana rolled her eyes and laughed at Kurt's hesitance.

"Come here you," she demanded playfully, pulling Kurt into a hug.

Kurt froze for a second before returning the hug. He tried to pull away, but Santana held him a little longer.

"Thank you for loving him," she whispered into his ear, her words laced with the utmost sincerity.

Kurt pulled away and glanced at Blaine who was chatting with the cab driver, his eyes crinkling merrily at some joke the driver just told.

"It's kind of hard not to," Kurt smiled. Santana nodded in agreement.

"Well I'm off. There's a villa in Greece with my name on it," she declared, climbing into the car. The men watched the cab drive away, sad sighs escaping from both of them, but Blaine didn't stay sad for long.

"Alright, go and get dressed. I have a surprise for you," he ordered, pulling Kurt back into the house. Kurt looked at him curiously.

"Blaine. We finally have the place _all_ to ourselves, and you want to leave it?" he wondered.

Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt's hands as he walked up the stairs and into their bedroom.

"Don't worry, I plan on taking full advantage of this empty house; just not right at this moment. Now go and get ready, I'll even let you take the first shower without a fight," Blaine offered teasingly.

Kurt gave him a Cheshire grin in return.

"You know, we could save time _and_ water if you joined me," Kurt sing-songed, giving Blaine a slow and suggestive wink.

Blaine laughed joyously, but pushed Kurt into the bathroom without him.

"If past experiences are anything to go by, that would definitely _not_ save time," he promised through the door.

Blaine walked to the opposite side of the room and picked out his clothes from his quarter of the closet, the other three-fourths belonging to Kurt. It was only fair. Blaine had commandeered most of the dresser. He smiled as he glanced at a photograph of the two of them that was hanging to the left of the closet: a picture snapped by Santana when neither of them were looking at the camera, foreheads touching, smiles on their faces and hearts in their eyes.

Before too long they were both ready and Blaine was behind the wheel of Kurt's blue roadster. He pointedly ignored Kurt's question of "Where are we going?" choosing instead to sing along with the radio and hold Kurt's hand over the armrest. About fifteen minutes away from their destination, Kurt let out a small gasp and looked at Blaine, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Figured it out have you?" Blaine asked, fully amused at Kurt's excitement.

Kurt nodded fiercely, barely containing his smile as he clutched Blaine's hand and joined in on singing with the radio.

After traveling down a couple of winding roads, Blaine finally parked the car and smiled fondly at the exact same picnic grounds Kurt had taken Blaine many months ago. Blaine hopped out of the car and popped open the trunk, removing a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne.

"I'm feeling a tiny bit of déjà vu here," Kurt remarked as he got out of the roadster.

"Nonsense, there wasn't any champagne last time," Blaine grinned, walking over to a patch of grass and setting down the bottle and basket. He then sat down and held out his arms, inviting Kurt to join him. Kurt lowered his head, looking at Blaine through his lashes at Blaine's bad joke before lying down as well, settling himself in Blaine's arms. Blaine hummed happily and brushed his lips against Kurt's brow, his thumb rubbing slow continuous circles on Kurt's hipbone.

"You're being mysterious today," Kurt mused, tilting his head back to look at his lover. "Getting up early, helping me with breakfast, taking me here without telling me we were going…" he prattled on.

Blaine laughed, the vibrations from his chest felt by Kurt.

"Breakfast was not planned. I really did just want you to come back to bed with me," he replied, shifting a little so he could grab the champagne bottle, pouring a glass for each of them.

"So, Santana's gone for six months. What do you want to do while she's gone?" Kurt asked between sips. "Tend the coffee plants and vineyard? Sightsee around the few places we haven't visited yet?"

Blaine sighed and sat up, folding his legs under him and taking Kurt's hand.

"You're bored here aren't you?" Blaine said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Kurt's eyes widened in horror at Blaine's sudden melancholy.

"No! No, I'm not bored here. I-I love it here Blaine," he assured him.

Blaine held a hand up to stop him.

"No, you don't. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't miss New York," Blaine dared.

Kurt met his gaze and began to speak, but nothing came out. Blaine nodded a little at Kurt's lack of words.

"That's what I thought. You're sick of just staying at the villa, eating nice meals and swimming in the ocean on occasion. You need excitement and intrigue. Which is why…" Blaine paused as he pulled out an envelope from the picnic basket and handed it to Kurt. "I got you this."

Kurt opened the envelope curiously, his fingers grasping the sheet of paper. His brow furrowed as he read the first line.

"A ticket to New York? But Blaine…"

"You miss Broadway, Kurt. You miss Manhattan, and the craziness of the city. You even miss the craziness of Rachel. You belong in New York, not here," Blaine stated.

Kurt dropped the ticket and grabbed Blaine's hands.

"Yeah, okay maybe I'm a little bored, but that doesn't mean I don't like it here or-or that I couldn't learn to adjust. I-I love you more than I love being a star and am willing to live a less exciting life as long as I can be with you," Kurt confessed, his voice breaking a little.

Blaine frowned and caressed Kurt's cheek.

"Hon, why are you getting so upset over this? I thought you'd be thrilled," he affirmed, sounding more than a little confused.

"You thought I'd be happy about going back to New York by myself? I love Rachel and all but she's certainly not you Blaine. I couldn't handle you being so far away," Kurt stated.

At this declaration, Blaine's confusion dissipated and he laughed, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"Kurt, did you really think you were going to New York without me?" he asked, a few laughs still escaping him.

"Well, yes. The paper said…" Kurt began before Blaine picked up said piece of paper and pointed out just how many tickets he purchased.

Kurt smiled widely and launched himself at Blaine, toppling him over and peppering his face with kisses. Suddenly he sat up, ignoring Blaine who was whining at the cease of affection.

"But Blaine, what's going to happen with the villa? You love that villa," Kurt said.

"It can be a vacation home," Blaine suggested, sitting up and unpacking the basket.

"_Blaine_, we can't just leave the house and the vineyard unattended. How will you make a living if you don't grow grapes? Never mind the coffee beans," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine sighed and gave Kurt a look.

"Kurt, I started growing coffee and grapes because I needed something to _do_, not because I needed the money. Former jewel thief, remember?"

Kurt shot him a look back.

"Like I could forget. Okay then, what about Santana? What happens when she comes back and we're gone hmm?"

Blaine didn't look up from the sandwich he had packed and was currently eating.

"Santana knows already. I told her when I bought the tickets a month ago. She's very excited to visit New York once her Greece vacation is over. She may even end up living there if she can get over the fact that Rachel lives in the same city."

Kurt chuckled before he grew quiet and asked his last series of questions.

"And what about you? Do _you_ want to live in New York? Is this what you want for your life? Please be honest. I don't want any conflicts or resentment years down the road because you just did this to make me happy and you didn't really want to go."

Blaine stopped eating and scooted closer to Kurt, taking his hands and kissing each knuckle.

"Of course I want this Kurt. My life is wherever you are," he said earnestly.

Kurt smiled and shook his head fondly at Blaine's overly romantic words.

"I-I know that sounded super cheesy," Blaine admitted. "But that doesn't make it any less true. I can't _wait_ to live in New York with you," he promised, his eyes shining with nothing but adoration and love for his man. Kurt grinned like mad at Blaine's words and snuggled into his side.

"We'll have to find an apartment. There's no way we're living with Rachel again. Especially since _she's_ living with Finn now. I want this place to be just ours," Kurt said excitedly.

"Of course," Blaine agreed, absentmindedly running his fingers through Kurt's hair as he listened to him discuss the best areas of Manhattan to go apartment hunting.

"And-and we _have_ to go visit Ohio once we find a place to live. You need to meet my dad. He's dying to meet you. And maybe we could visit your parents too," Kurt suggested.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Blaine said softly, pulling Kurt even closer to him and giving him a peck as he thought about how he could get Kurt's dad alone so he could ask him a_ very_ important question.

He watched Kurt lovingly as he continued to list all the places they should visit and the things they could do once they arrived; watched him openly wonder about what shows he could audition for, and should they _call_ Rachel or just surprise her…

Yes. Blaine was quite positive he was going to love New York.

_The End_

* * *

**That's it everyone! That's the end! Thank you so much for sticking with me and reading and reviewing. I am so happy that so many of you read it all the way through. Taking a movie that I love so much and being able to turn it into this was absolutely amazing. I hope you guys liked how it ended! Again, thank you thank you thank you for your support and I hope you guys liked it enough to read my next piece. It should be up and running soon-ish so stay tuned! I'll still be dabbling in the works of Hitchcock, but it'll be a little darker and a little more dangerous. However, it will always be Klaine. :)  
**

**As always, best wishes!  
**

**Vintage Vagabond  
**


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